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Anxiety

Poetry

By B DayPublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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You are anxiety.

When you were little, they called it being a

Worry wart.

They rolled their eyes when you cried because your mom was late coming home,

Or when you wouldn’t let your dog off the leash.

You are anxiety.

And your friends would make fun of you for wearing your seatbelt,

And for getting too sweaty palmed to hold the drink they secretly handed you,

And for going home instead.

You are anxiety.

They say “How can you have anxiety

If you are pretty

And have money

And nice parents”

And you tell them

“I, too, am confused

About why I feel this way.

And I know I’m not supposed to.”

You are anxiety

And they say “If your life is easy,

What do you have anxiety about”

And you wish you could tell them

That you’re an avalanche

Rolling into an unexpecting village,

And you feel the ocean in your chest

From the moment you wake up

To the moment your heart beats itself to sleep,

And you wish you could breathe

But you’ve forgotten how,

And sometimes you wish you knew what was making

Your lungs tight,

And when you realize there isn’t a reason,

They get tighter.

You wish you could tell them

That you worry your parents might die

Any second,

Or your pets,

Or your friends,

Or them.

You worry that the silence in your car is too soft,

And it might mean that nothing

Means anything

At all.

You worry that you’re trapped behind your eyes,

And you try to escape through your ears,

And you realize this is it,

And you won’t ever leave your own head.

You are anxiety.

And you don’t tell them that you slept for three hours last night

Because you kept waking up in cold sweat.

And you don’t tell them that you threw up last week because the

Earthquake you imagined rattled your soul and you were preparing for the very house you live in

To crush you.

You don’t tell them that you grew up plucking your own eyelashes

And chewing off your own fingers

And gnawing at your own lips.

You’ve eaten yourself alive from the time you were

Old enough

To know how to say

What if.

You are anxiety,

And you don’t know how to tell them

That you pray every night

Someday you won’t be.

sad poetry
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