(Anxiously) Floating

This stress triggers my anxiety
because I can’t handle you being mad at me
for any reason. It makes me nervous.
I think, "Do I really deserve this?"
or is my mind just ten steps ahead of reality?
It might be. Probably.
But I can’t help it, it’s just the way I operate
when we congregate
all the facts and lay them out flat,
“How dare you accuse me of that!”
but then I remember that the conversation is with myself
and not with you. Hell,
I can’t focus long enough to present an argument,
a defense, a counter-statement… I got it!...no, wait, gone again.
My ADD turns my attention span
into a ladybug’s wingspan,
my stomach’s in knots,
my gaze drops
to the floor as my heart pushes blood through my limbs,
my sight dims -
tunnel vision beginning
with no light at its ending.
I start shaking, scratching, snapping,
biting, grinding, pinching,
anything to release this nervous energy pulsing through me.
I’m focusing on you to bring me back to safety
because this fight isn’t worth losing you.
We’ll make it through
some way, some how
because you are my ground;
without you, I’m left

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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