forbid me the present

I begin to feel small bursts of anxiety, I feel a sudden surge of anxiety; I don't want to but can't help it. The feelings that pierce my chest, preventing me from continuing to feel. I don't want any of this to end; I begin to think about the end, stopping living in the present. I stop enjoying what I have in my hands. I think about the sadness that returning to the present brings me. I end up feeling even more lost, clouding my mind, filling it with the smoke of thoughts that only serve to deteriorate me.