sometimes it’s loose or not there at all
I wish that was all the time.
Commonly, I feel tight.
Like someone’s got a grip on my heart and is squeezing hard,
It hurts, I hate it.
The grip is trying to tell me doom comes.
I believe it sometimes.
Terrified, i want to run away, to hide from it.
Mostly I want someone to tell me it will be ok and hold me.