Now In Theatre's: "Anxiety: What Is It Good For?"

Sun, 08/17/2014 - 10:55 -- apence


Close the curtain and turn on the smoke machine. 

It's show time.
Panic has your hands set to vibrate.
Stage fright.
Makes it hard to turn the wheels of this act. 
"Can I have your number?"
You've forgotten your line.
Don't dig for an answer in your skin,
Close the curtain. 
"Want to go eat with us?" 
You don't know them.
They'll whisper when your back is turned. 
Answers are stuck in your throat but, thank god, for the automated voice machine and then,
Close the curtain.
"You're a real witch, you know that?"
The world is growing dark around you.
Somebody adjust the lights. 
Panic or lash out?
Close the curtain,
And let her believe you are the witch she suspects you to be.
I could turn the cogs of this machine until they are rusted. 
I think I'll do just that. 
"You failed to get a 'C' or higher last semester."
"Why don't you go out with your friends?"
"Do you ever leave your room?" 
When was the last time you felt like tearing up the world with your screams?
This morning. And the night before. And the morning before that.
Fear is a strict director. 
I barely sleep with all the hours it's got me working.
But there are days off.
To open the curtain for a moment,
Driving in the car with the windows down. 
Let Led Zeppelin fill the space between your ears.
Let them tell you about what happens "When the Levee Breaks".
And believe them when they tell you to "Ramble On".
And when you get home, forget your duffle of burdens in the trunk and 
Open the curtain.
Let your Father rub your shoulders, and your Mother make your favorite dish. 
Lay your weary head,
The show will go on without you.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

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