Letter I Can't Send
Dear Anxiety:
Please leave.
I don’t like you.
I certainly don’t need you.
...or do I? Would I
remember everything I have to get done
without worrying about all the deadlines?
And what if I’m not watching people’s reactions
closely enough
and I don’t catch that
I’m boring them?
No, it’s all just you again. Just making me think
I need you.
That I can’t get rid of you.
But I can.
And I will.
But you’re hanging on
like cobwebs in the corner
and I have to beat you down
with a broom.
Please.
Just leave.
I don’t want you.
And I certainly don’t need you.
Signed,
You know who it is.
This poem is about:
Me