4600
Boy Afraid
That gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach
That weight upon your brow
That pain and hollowness in your heart
Those long, sleepless nights that plaque you a minimum of three times a week
That persistent and annoying voice in your head you hear in the evening and morning
That ever present feeling that nothing is ever going to be right in the world with you and with you truly believing it
Anxiety strangling…
When the food taste bland
When the wine is sour, insipid
When the cold slithers in and chills you to your very core
When you can’t stand the light of day, preferring to live in constant midnight
When the reflection that stares back at you from the mirror bows its head down in shame
Anxiety sapping…
It depletes your health, you being sicker than you’ve ever felt
It cripples you mentally, taking your spirit and thoughts unmercifully
It holds you in its vice-like grip with pressure similar to the ocean’s depths
Until all that’s left is the shell from whence you came
Anxiety in triumph.
