Dear anxiety -
There's so much to tell you
and this isn't me in a postcard
writing after months of no word
but the isolation
is just the same.
I have so much to tell you
about how you make me feel,
how I boil,
how I'm not only nervous but angry
that you do this to me,
You're a shock in my brain,
a probe sharpened for me,
and I will always ask why
it is that you do
all that you do
with no effort at all
but a lifetime of misery
It's a talent,
the way you consume my every thought
and make me gulp and stumble
when I'm just on my phone,
my thumbs shakily hovering
to send a simple text, a question,
to someone I've known for so long,
but cannot trust
because you convince me that they'll hate me.
I'm just as afraid
that this car will crash
either by a wandering squirrel
or the person to my left.
So why not just tell the driver?
If you're concerned about their driving.
I ask myself this
but you always have an answer
and you're always right.
I'm silent most of the time
because I wonder about the possibilities -
the words, the embarrassment -
that would follow me like you do now,
for an indiscernible amount of time.
So maybe one day
I'll pay for the cure.
I'll spend money on something I can't control.
And maybe you'll start to cost me too much,
so I'll oblige and be your subject
and at first it's perfectly fine when I enjoy Emotion's return
but you only make a show
so that you see me disappointed.
I think you're a glutton; an insecure thing,
I'll cry and I'll yell because I hate you so much
that I want you gone, not just now but forever,
and I'll resent you for hours on end.
But I only sound crazy.
You're nothing outside -
you're a fuzzy gray thought
that happy people ponder.
And maybe I'll admit once
that I'd miss having you around.
I'd never let you hear me say it -
I hardly allow myself to think it.
But I suppose I can stop
and think about your presence
and challenge myself to stand up to you.
I shouldn't really blame you
for something you don't control.
Because who knows who controls it?
I know you're just doing your job.
I know you're just a part of my brain
wanting to function
like any other part of my brain.
But you can take a vacation -