Can you say that again?

Loud.
My Jumping ribcage, metallic laughter, fluttering hands.
Shut up.
Louder.
The raw meat red shade of my skin, the prickle of sweat,
the uncomfortable surge of adrenalin.
You can’t speak intelligently.
Quiet.
The sticky-shaky feeling, stinging, the chasm in my stomach,
This is what you expected- why is it disappointing?
Quieter.
The inside of my skull, tired acknowledgment, crescent moon palms.
Repeat.