Letter I Can't Send

Dear Anxiety:

 

Please leave.

I don’t like you.

I certainly don’t need you.

 

...or do I? Would I

remember everything I have to get done

without worrying about all the deadlines?

And what if I’m not watching people’s reactions

closely enough

and I don’t catch that

I’m boring them?

 

No, it’s all just you again. Just making me think

I need you.

That I can’t get rid of you.

 

But I can.

And I will.

But you’re hanging on

like cobwebs in the corner

and I have to beat you down

with a broom.

 

Please.

Just leave.

I don’t want you.

And I certainly don’t need you.

 

Signed,

You know who it is.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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