Anxiously Waiting
Hey. Me again.
I’m getting so tired of our little
back-and-forths,
so I’m calling it right now.
Don’t come back to me.
I know what this is,
and I’m done with your abuse.
You’re bad for me,
I know that. I’ve always known.
Everyone you ever touch
withers.
(Crap, my hand hurts again.
Every stupid time I put things on paper…
But what’s it matter? This
needs to be said. Why am I
telling you anything?)
So pack it up, you. Get out
of my head and find someone else
to torment and crush. I want to
breathe again. I haven’t breathed
in so long.
I’ll kick you out. I will! I swear –
even if it kills me –
I will rid myself of you.
It might take
every pill in the bottle,
and a year of sleepless nights,
but I’ll be safe
someday.
I will be safe from you, Anxiety.
Just you remember that:
even if it kills me, I’ll take that over
living with you another day.
I’ve already got
a restraining order from the doctor.
So just try it.
I can’t wait to get you sacked,
to feel you slip away forever.
Did you… ever love me?
You told me I was stuck with you,
and I thought maybe that wasn’t so bad,
but I was so wrong. I still can’t
breathe.
You come too near and I
shut down. Do you find pleasure
in making people cry?
I hate you.
Do you even know what it’s like to cry?
Do you know
what you do to me?
Never mind. I don’t care. Just
get out of my world
and don’t you look back.
Maybe
dealing with you has made me stronger,
and maybe
I should be grateful for that,
but I have to admit
I’m not.
I won’t be grateful
until we never share a space again.
Goodbye, Anxiety.
- Your Ex
P.S. Don’t try to come back once you’re gone.
I’ve got enough pills
to kill us both.