Claustrophobia

The stench of unwashed bodies assaults my nostrils..
layers and layers of grime and filth..
settled on human skin...
A wave of nausea hits my stomach..
as i try to to ignore a strange faceless hand..
mistaking my butt for a stray wallet...
i grope around me...
trying to find support and finding nothing but stale beedhi smoke...
i turn around...
interrupting the eye to eye convo that a man was having with my chest..
I count the passing moments breathlessly..
as I feel the world closing in on me..
the disgust, the rot, the shame of it all..
My sinking soul resurfaces for one last breath..
and I welcome the sweet smelling air..
as I always do..
when I get off a DTC bus.