I placate the serpent in my belly
With comfort food and pills
And fetal regression.
I try to swallow it down
With lavender tea and warm milk
But it slithers up my throat
Not quite strong enough
To fully extricate itself.
The scales tickle my throat
Forcing reticent groans.
If it works it's way out
It will swallow me whole.
YOU ARE READING
My Year of Unrest: a collection of poems I wrote in 2020
PoetryA collection of poems from 2020 that act as my diary as I deal with anxiety, starting antidepressants for the first time, the pandemic, and the unstable socio-political climate in the United States. Critique is welcome and encouraged. Some poems ar...
