An anxiety poem. Written at 7AM in the morning after gasping awake with dread. I drafted this frantically on a napkin to find release during an intense period of pressure and external stress.
Throw up, or cramp up.
Pounding, head whirling,
Thoughts scrambling, throat cobbling out
Salty tears burning down
blotched and blazing cheeks.
You wake, feeling paralyzed, terrorized
by the rabid reeling of your own mind.
You see today stretching out before you,
and convulse into fearing,
your forsaken place in it.
You don’t want to be there. Anywhere but there.
The here and now is safe but fleeting,
sheltered even though it’s transient, that
space of grace that
exhales for a second – Then it’s
gone, time marches on,
and it’s scary as hell.
For a second, then – what?
What now? How
to plow through this?
You call friends.
You run when the stress compels you,
forces you to release, make peace
with that flailing, fiery energy
which burns burns burns
You eat your greens.
You write furiously, feverishly
vomiting out the
hate and stress and fear
that make up the motion sickness
of your life right now.
But still you feel it there, lurking.
That anxious beast is
at the tenuous doors of your heart.
through writing is the key
ingredient that sets you free.
Pooling all of your thoughts onto the
safe oasis of a private page to
soak up your negativity.
Your pen reaps what the heart weeps.
Because the only way
to soothe that anxious beast
is to make it purr. Lure and
caress it with your pen, and only then
do the truthful tones of your heart
cause it to cower
at the power of your story.
is here. You feel it, that
small swell of eagerness is
blooming, looming, letting you know that
this too shall pass. You
have no proof besides
your years passed, where
your soul asked for a similar
period of stretching, moaning, and groaning.
And you emerged,
having endured a painful spurt
that hurt but was
necessary for you to grow and know
to take stride in life.
You are not alone.
For those entering new spaces,
For those traversing strange places,
For those surrounded by unfamiliar faces
and are far from home
and are adjusting to the underrated, unadulterated rollercoaster of life;
I’m with you.
I feel you.
I hear you.
This is for you as much as it is for me.
Write it out, my loves
And together we’ll get through this.