I released you, my beautiful and passionate 

anxiety. I release you. You were my beloved

and hated twin, but now, I don’t know you

as separate from myself. I release you with all the

pain I would know at the death of my dreams.

 

You are not my thoughts anymore.

 

I give you back to the assignments

that ripped apart my mind, crushed my soul,

ruined and terrorized my nights and weekends.

I give you back to those who stole the

happiness from my life when I was learning.

 

I release you, anxiety, because you hold

this work over my head and I will live

with a height that can never reach it.

I release you.

I release you.

I release you.

I release you.

 

I am not anxious to go to school.

I am not anxious to raise my hand.

I am not anxious to ask questions.

I am not anxious to be late.

I am not anxious to be on time.

I am not anxious to not know enough.

I am not anxious to know too much.

I am not anxious to be myself.

to be myself, to be myself, anxiety.

 

Oh, you have drowned me, but I turned on the faucet.

You have cut me apart, but I gave you the knife.

You have eaten me up, but I laid across the table.

 

I take myself back, anxiety.

You are not my mind any longer.

I won’t hold you in my heart.

You can’t live in my mind, my hands, my voice, 

my stomach, or in my heart my heart 

my heart my heart.

 

But come here, anxiety.

I am alive and you are so afraid of dying.