When panic stuck and washed over my body,
Behind the dark plastic stall door,
I found comfort.
No one could hear me as I sobbed,
No one could see the tears streak my face.
As I clutched my twisted stomach,
While my lungs pulled for air,
I was locked safely away.
Four months later,
I have strength to not hide,
I am free from my panic.
As I stand before the stall where I found refuge,
I feel the strength of my spirit,
I am healing.
It feels freeing to be able to see my place of refuge,
When I am panic free and strong,