Off

Something's bottled inside
locked in tight,
bursting at the seams.
The tremors rock through my chest,
through my finger tips,
making it hard to carry a conversation.
My voice vibrates,
my chest feels fizzy - off -
I don't know what's wrong.
Is there something wrong?
I'm sick to my stomach -
can't sit in class anymore.
Walks don't help.
Talks don't help.
Mom and Dad don't know what to do.
I'll just sit here and wait
for the fizzy and the sick to go away
so I can sleep
and not feel another day.