Sun, 02/02/2020 - 23:40 -- Bharti

My anxiety is a mobile phone on silent mode
It keeps buzzing silently everytime someone says hello
Or tries to initiate a conversation
Only after they leave
My mind presents me with all the missed signals amd analysis of what went wrong
My brain is a weak student
And my anxiety, an angry teacher
Punishing my body for not understanding enough
That danger is a sea and my life is a boat stranded midway
That no matter how much i try to row it, it will keep coming back to the sane old water it left behind
My anxiety is a joke nobody laughs on
So i smile alone
Like a missed punchline
My anxiety is Shakespeare's worldly stage
And i am the lone puppet
Dancing to the tunes of it
As the auditorium filled with emptiness
Applauds me for my struggling self
Making way towards the end of this room
To escape
Only it is a maze and i know no ends to it
My anxiety is a wedding celebration
And i am a relative constantly ignored
Because there are prettier faces and bonds
Bonds that stick together like a bonfire
And burn not to warm the room
But the relationships that once flourished like blooming flowers in deserts
But i only know this
Anxiety is a wrong road in the midst of the night
And i am on the driving seat
Trying my way through fog
Constantly chanting the name of god
You see this is a badly written poem
And world, a spectator, a judge, a literary connesseuire
This is a poem without rhyme
And anxiety, the only recurring metaphor
This poem dwindles off the edge
Like hands of a dying patient surrounded by family
But this poem doesn't end suddenly
Like releasing the last breath
Trapped in the alveolus
Rather this hangs on
Like tethered ends of a rope
Tied around the neck
A failed attempt
An eternal sigh of life
A second chance
Unlike my anixety
Which seems keen on killing me
Skinning the layers of my belief
You see
This anxiety
Waits for me like a nurse with needle in her hand
And, I,like a scared child
Run towards my mother
My anxiety is like mother waiting on other end
And everytime i embrace it
I feel my heartbeats racing
An escapade eluding time
Sometimes it acts as a time warp
Sometimes it is the seconds of clock
Bursting scenarios in my mind
And epitaphs
Recite with a voice of a meak critic
Sitting in the nooks of my cells
Eating away my happiness
One moment at a time
Until the day breaks into million little sunsets
And the monotonic rhythm of this lousy body
Lulls this brain into sleep
Anxiety is a beep of hospital lift
I am the door of the patient's room
Slowly opened to reveal
Life taking deep breaths
Anxiety doesn't make for a good poetry
Which explains
Why certain poems don't have a good end
They just finish off suddenly
Like anxiety retreating after long day
Into the back seat of mind

This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

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