A message form your former host.

Mon, 02/05/2018 - 15:41 -- CIBE

Dear ANXIETY, 

I wish you were a stranger, but I know you all too well. Don't be mistaken, though... I have never invited you into my home, you just climb in through the back window. The routine is too familiar. You always enter my home whenever I have happily prepared my meal and as I'm just about to take a bite, you tell me that there is something new on the menu. I always refuse, but it's always too late.. you have already started giving out the main courses of limitations, stress, and restlessness. Each time I say I have had enough, you give me the side dishes of hopelessness, worry, and panic. This time I have actually had enough and I am going to board up that back window and enjoy the meals that I have successfully planned for myself...you won't have any part of it. I guess you took the hint because I haven't seen you around these days. But, I feel like I saw a glimpse of your dark intimidation through the small hole in the wooden board. What is it? What do you want? What do you get from creeping into the back windows of people's minds? What do you get from trying to discontinue the plans we have already made for ourselves. You're sick, anxiety. You need help and I have the remedy in abundance... serenity. Come get some. 

Sincerely your former host, 

Chiamaka

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741