The Beginning of the Middle

Hey all.
If you don't know me... how'd you come across this anyway?? But welcome, welcome. My name is Luke Muench, just another freshman in college, specifically Moravian College. English major with a creative writing focus, psychology minor. Surrounded by those who claim they care, but turn their backs the moment I look away.
If you are one of the few who have been invited to this, congratulations; I love you, ever so whole heartedly. You are the people who allow me to feel whole, and give me a reason to keep living.
That being said, my good buddy (who I've invited to this; you know who you are) encouraged me to start a blog with all of my writings. I've been going through some emotional turmoil for the past couple of weeks, and I needed a release of all that stress and turmoil that is exploding from my chest every time I breathe, every time I think. I think this poem sort of encapsulates how I'm feeling. I hope you enjoy, be sure to provide feedback, witty comments, or whatever you want to say.

Rumblings

Breathing becomes hard as I push onwards,
charging past door after door,
searching for an exit, some means of escape.
Fear rises, like the bile rising in my throat,
as the thundering behind me rumbles louder
LoUdEr
LOUDER
Fright pushes me forward through the twisting, turning corridors.
I pray for it all to come to an end,
so that I might rest, and stop to pain in my soul for a minute, a second, a moment.
Yet, my poor choice of words is the death of me,
for they spring from my mouth, tying me up,
shackles of mine own creation.
Before I can react to this, my heart drops,
as they rush around the corner behind me, coming into view;
My Thoughts
A crowd of belligerent monkeys, they crow and shriek
at the sight of their prey, trapped and helpless.
I struggle vainly against my self-made bonds,
when, suddenly, they are upon me,
tearing, ripping, gnawing at my very being.
And what can I do, but allow myself
but to be consumed by my own queries and dreams?
They trudge away, leaving streaks of pain and frustration etched on the hallways of my mind,
along with a sad sack of skin.
A human shell, weary from sleepless nights and distracted days,
from running time and time again to no avail.
I know they will return soon enough;
the thrill of the haunt will drive them back for more.
So, I, bedraggled and depressed, curl up where I lay
in hopes of some rest before they return.

If only she were here-
In the distance, the rumbling of thunder commences again,
matching the rapid beating of my heart.