Standing With Wobbly Legs on Shaking Ground

Anxiety is a way of life that is hard to endure

Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Unsplash

This internal storm took from me
every day,
a little bit of strength in my plans,
a little bit of energy from my vigilance,
the right leg hollow,
the left eye blurry,
the pinky finger questioning its
existence.

Tic, tic, tics forming
in daily formation.

My constant sweat
the rain,
my anxiety the thunder,
waiting for the lightning strike.

A turtle struggling on its back,
a fish swimming in circles
in a sandwich bag,
a loosely screwed in
light bulb that flickers.

So much to be done
I had avoided before,
being this ill has made every
priority take a number
at this dysfunctional government agency
I call a brain.

Today I will
blow my nose and do my job,
eat, sleep, mildly parent,
collapse.