No more vitamin D

How can I explain?
It’s the weight of 80 fingers
slowly imprinting themselves
into my throat.
Clenching eyes, no,
I can’t cry out.
It’s the heel of a boot
grinding itself
into my solar plexus; it grinds
in pleasure as I grind
my teeth together,
creating sparks.
It’s vermin
(hundred upon thousands)
scurrying up my throat and down my back
to rest
in the area behind my heart.
My stomach churns,
I taste bile,
tears in eyes,
salt burning my retinas.
It’s like my arms are attached
to strings:
Shaking.
Anger and fear
and sorrow
and guilt.
Pain.
But god,
the anger.
Angered butterflies in my stomach,
heart and head
batter themselves
into papery oblivion.
I finally collapse
onto old German-matresses.
The butterflies
fall.