acute anxiety disorder
haunted my childhood
cost me many
nights of
sleep
ignited the
phosphor flash
in the core of my
brain & the pit of my
belly.
it wrote poems.
it pried me into
the costume of
the spiritual actor––
doing yoga, meditating––
counting & not counting
breaths.
anxiety is the
background noise of
some great catastrophic
human event in this,
or some other,
lifetime.
it is
the too-much-magnetism
between the muscles, the
ligaments, the bones––
grasping my trembling
body to my
soul.
It is the riddle
that propels this
living projectile
forward––
& when i
solve it, i’ll be able
to stop worrying
about this
dust
& finally get some
rest.