The Courage to Wake up

Short piece, on anxiety, been a little stressed out lately

This anxiety ebbs:

It

bites at my lips,
nibs at my veins,
pulses through my heart,
grabs at my ribs,
presses on my sternum,
and prickles in my chest.
It fermentates from

deep,
deep,

within my being.

Please. 
Be Gone.

Sometimes,
it is barely there,
a small elation,
a small revelation:
I am free.
I am fine.
Things will get better,
Things are going to be fine.
Everything feels light.
You flit through the day,
without accident.
You become confident
that you have conquered.  


You relapse.


You can feel it:
Goosebumps rising,
pupils dilating,
breaths shortening,
heartbeat quickening. 
It festers and blooms.
It’s an infection 
you can’t scratch out. 

You can draw blood
with your nails,
scrap them across arteries,
drag them across limbs and
watch with mild fascination
and perhaps comfort 
of blooming red streaks.
Yet, they are never deep enough 
to scar permanently 
and the marks fade and heal
with time.
Unlike anxiety 
which vows to stay.

You reach revelation, 
or devastation, 
when you realize, 
there is no running from it, 
you do not simply
forget it,
heal from it,
patch yourself up,
move on
and be done of it.

You have to learn to

Control it,

Maintain it,

Contain it,

And wake up each day
with the courage
to Live with it. 

 

The End

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