Anxiety
She is almost a spark of beauty,
But she poisons my nerves with fussy fear.
As walking in a hall is a duty
Compelled to heed every stepping sound,
She has awakened, seen nowhere near here
But felt within the depths of my beaten ribcage.
Again I welcome her, again she tries.
A stolen breath for my aching muscles.
Easily naming her, love. I advise,
She is patient overwhelming hustles.
Trying to drive in and take out neutrality,
And it is breaking my normality.
She solemnly passes within my heart
Continually surprising me
Taking over my masking thoughts
And now I stare in silence
In a hall full of people.
YOU ARE READING
Anxiety
PoetryJust a simple poem(s) on how I feel when anxiety rips my self being from day to day.
