Dear Anxiety
Dear Anxiety,
You seem to prevent
me from taking a breath that’s more than a gasp.
Oh God
My breathing.
Someone is thinking about my breathing,
But I can’t help the elephant
Who’s grown accustomed to
Its seat on my chest.
A heavy weight…
Oh God
My weight.
Someone has to be thinking about my weight.
Knobby knees and elbows
My ribs jutting from my sides
Shards of glass trying
To cut their way out of my body
With each breath.
Each gasp.
Oh God
It’s my breathing again
Sincerely,
The body you’ve held as your silent prisoner for years.
This poem is about:
Me