My anxiety bubbles into anger
My hand turns white
Balled into a fist within the safety
of my pocket
My jaw is tight
My shoulders tense
Tears prick my eyes
I blink then away
I exhale sharply
Click my music up until
I can hear
The music
In my blood
A heavy beat
Is it my heart-
or my music?
The sound hammers my head.
I release my hand
The anger that had turned into anxiety
Not gone
But temporarily diminished
10/3/23
YOU ARE READING
Words that I won't share with anyone
PoesiaI don't care if you read this. Words are meant to be put out there Even if no one reads it. Or cares. This is Poetry that I write I'll share my own words, if you want you can too. Just sharing some thoughts. Anyone who is lost can come here. If you...
