Anxiety and Depression
walk down the same path—
hand in hand,
they lurk closer
and closer
to my shadow
that followed behind me.
They were twins
conjoined by the wrists,
and they knew how to break me down
and drive me into
the cracks of darkness.
Anxiety knew how to frighten me,
and make my heart beat quickly;
she knew the fears in my heart,
and found different ways
to make me break down to the point
where I bury my head in my hands,
and breathe uneasily in my desk,
shaking.
Depression kept a hold of my hand
every step of the way,
because he knew that when I'd be alone,
he'd be there to stay.
He knew how to make me numb,
and he knew how to break me open,
an eggshell raw and cold,
broken and damaged,
yolk drowning the egg whites.
'Why do you follow me?' I ask them one day,
'Because you still survive,' Anxiety answers,
'And we need to set your monsters free,' Depression says.
'But my monsters have already been set free,' I cry,
'Exactly,' they smile.
'And you follow me anyway?' I question,
'Well, why not?' Depression chuckles,
'We need a place to stay,' Anxiety whispers,
'And your heart looks like a nice empty fridge,
cold and filled with bits and pieces of leftovers
that people didn't want anymore,' Depression sings;
'So we'll devour your leftovers,
and let ourselves in.'
YOU ARE READING
I Was She
Poetry[Complete] A series of poems and short stories tell the sad tale of a breakup, of rejection, and of finding new love. From losing her soulmate to learning to see the world from a different perspective, M.A. Rivers writes down every last feeling that...
