My Anxiety is a lion with a mane of barbed wire and claws made of rusty nails. It is always around when I try and fail.
My anxiety is a full, week old garbage bin. It stinks when it's around and stops me from succeeding again and again.
My anxiety is a blanket someone took off my bed, threw in the floor and didn't fold. It keeps me from being proactive, courageous and bold.
My anxiety is a choke-hold under water with my friends waving goodbye from the shore, I try to swim but sink into the deep boggy moor.
My anxiety is a pirate ship sailing on the water and I've got a target on my back, making me perfect cannon fodder.
My anxiety is a demon that haunts me day and night, keeping me from sleeping and all I can do is hope and pray someday I will finally be alright
About the Creator
ᔕᗩᗰ ᕼᗩᖇTY
Sam Harty is a poet of raw truth and quiet rebellion. Author of Lost Love Volumes I & II and The Lost Little Series, her work confronts heartbreak, trauma, and survival with fierce honesty and lyrical depth. Where to find me
The Man Who Loved Too Loudly
An Inner War Between the Heart and the Fear of Being Left I did not fall in love quietly. Some people slip into love the way they slip into sleep—slowly, unknowingly, gently. I crashed into it like a storm that didn’t ask permission.
By Ahmed aldeabella3 days ago in Psyche
Comments (1)
Wondefful prose poem and great image for the subject