PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Laughing in the back
of the college classroom
at my hypoglycemic seizure
while two peers aide me
and force the professor
to halt class. I feel twisted
like a pretzel inside
because I appreciate the help,
but the laughter, whispers, rude comments
echo in my ears. I may be incoherent,
to the level of not being able to talk
and communicate, but I can
still feel what my body's doing,
hear what's being said,
feel when someone touches me,
and know some of what is
going on. I am grateful that
I didn't feel myself drifting
from my body without knowing
where I'm being pulled to,
but still feeling grounded.