Anxiety (n.)

A Poem by cellostiel

A short, dictionary-form poem describing one person's anxiety

anx·i·e·ty [aNGˈzīəd�"] n. 1. The way you can’t even look at the phone, let alone pick it up to call in sick (it’s the third time this week / you thought you’d be better by now / you can’t afford a doctor to get a note / and you’re not sure they’d even give a note for what you have) 2. The seizing of your lungs when your girlfriend says you need to talk (this is the fourth talk you've had this month / it's probably nothing to worry about / but you're scared / it's your first relationship / you can’t help but wish it were easier / as awful as that makes you feel) 3. The evil thoughts that creep in on you in the dark of the night, curling their claws into your heart (why aren’t you smarter? / why aren’t you more dedicated? / why haven’t you written a word in two weeks? / don’t you love it? / why are you so needy? / why are you such a burden? / why can’t you just be okay?) 4. The cold of a blade against your skin, digging in (it hurts, but you keep going / it distracts from the real pain / the one that begs you to end it, to just kill yourself already / it’s scary / and yet / when it’s gone / you miss it) 5. The tears that collect on your chin, dripping onto the bedsheets (you curl up tighter, but it doesn’t keep the pain out / you don’t even know what you’re crying about now / but everything is wrong, wrong, wrong / and it won’t stop) 6. The blinking cursor of the chat box (don’t talk to them / you’re bothering them / you don’t even know what to say / but it feels like you’ll die if you don’t talk / maybe that’s for the better / just die already)