Breathe

Inhale.
How long can I hold this breath? Vaporous, intoxicating, oxygenated relief, peace, unadulterated by Anxiety?
Anxiety who, vying for space, curls his toes in anticipation and perches upon the lips of my inevitable exhalation.
‘Please,’ a prayer forbade voice, unwilling to allow even the slightest whisper of air from my lungs.
‘Please,’ a prayer forbade answer, unknowing of how, why, whom shall answer my plea.
‘Please,’ a prayer forbade logic, breath the essence of my life, the usher of my pain.
Physiology, betrothed to Anxiety, asserts domination and I anticipate His violent embrace.
Release, expulse, faster now, maybe this time, maybe He waits not, maybe the corridor is empty.
Empty?
Empty, save His haunted smile, the bobcat got the cream and He has left the apprehension to drip, drop, descend his whiskers, collecting as disquietude within my emptied lungs. 
Quick now, gasp, insufflate, breathe dammit, replace trepidation with serenity.
Inspire.