Anxiety

Anxiety.

One of the many things,

That can drive me insane.

Consistently waiting for something,

Or in my case,

Someone.

Just for them not to come.

It takes over you,

And you can only

Think about the thing

That is causing you

To be anxious.

Waiting every minute,

Thinking that it will happen

In only a few more minutes.

But it never does.

You keep waiting,

Anxious every second,

Excited because you feel

That it will happen,

Well, and entire hour or two

Has passed.

Nothing…

Wait another minute!

Nothing…

The same thing,

Over,

and over,

and over,

and over

Again.

Nothing is changing.

You try to take a break,

But you are too attached.

You feel controlled over something,

And it seems to tear you apart.

And you wonder,

Are they ignoring me?

Can are they not online right now?

You never know.

That is the mystery,

Of anxiety.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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