Saturday, December 14, 2013

I'm not a poet but anxiety is not pretty: so here are some poems I wrote about it.

Am I real
Or looking through the glass again
At a life that was once mine
Or was it hers?
Because we're not the same
It whirs past me
All yellow and blurry and
The golden glory burns against my forehead
Rubbing itself in
And I can’t take it anymore
It’s bigger and better than me
All of them are chasing their dreams
When I am breaking my own heart
The other side is so distant to me
Its magnetic memory draws me close
As if to say
Look at what you had
And look at you now
Let me break you with a gleaming fear
Of eyes all watching and jeering and pointing
At the difference in you
And this warrants my weeping heart
To give up