My hearse

A poem for anyone who has ever felt anxious and victim to their own mind


1. My hearse


‘But why are you so anxious?’

A good friend asks

Through the intimate medium

Of facebook chat  


Where to start?

I don’t even know

Where all of these fears

Continue to grow  


I stomp one out

Only to wake to five more  

Like cockroaches inhabiting my mind

A constant part

Of my daily grind  


Like cockroaches

These worries disperse

Seeking refuge

In a past memory’s hearse  


Tearing up the upholstery

And taking it for a drive

Because anxiety is always

Being on somebody else’s ride  


Digging, digging, digging so deep

Eventually they’ll break through the fluff

Uncovering all of

The metal and rust  


That separates yesterday from today

The calm from the storm

Until they finally fall through to the present

And sound the alarm  


Getting so lost in not being found

I’m forced to give them the floor  


As I fall to the ground

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