Anxiety 1 (a poem)
Please stop.
I know you think you’re helping
but you’re not.
And look what you’ve become:
benevolent servant turned tyrant.
No longer scared of
wolf, boar or bear, you
turn inward to find the
fears to fuel your fire:
the greatest guilt,
unshakeable shame.
And if you find nothing
you dredge the depths
of past nightmares,
oh teller of terrible tales.
I should have long outgrown you
but you keep me dependant,
stunted, small, child-like,
frightened and friendless
yet afraid to be alone.
“Forget about it”
insist the ignorant,
“Distract yourself, let it go.”.
These fools unaware that
my attention is all that
is keeping hell from my door.
In the grip of your
omnipotent paranoia
I single-mindedly
control the course of my life.
Though my horizons decreasing
dreams ever distant,
a shrinking existence suffocated
by your painted tigers.
You are palpitation and heart attack,
gut twists and agitation,
the metallic taste of adrenaline
on the backs of my teeth.
You leave me exhausted.
Imprisoned in the one
room I feel some sort of sanctuary,
stripped of my safety,
security and sanity
in a house I cant settle,
devoid of shelter, not yet a home,
the locked front door offers
no defence against
the man with the paper,
who can come at anytime
and steal my world away.
Sat in silence, I stare
at the frosted glass,
braced and waiting,
waiting,
waiting,
for the worst.
