All Writing & Art, Poetry. Prose. Letters.

the anxiety that holds

i’m wondering
where this life starts and where it ends. is it
somewhere between the inhale of a sharp breath
and the wilting of a leaf, or
drowning in exhales
while the sun gives rise to a new day?

it sometimes feels
like the world will come to a crashing end
if i don’t solve a never ending equation
that presents itself to me
on each raw nerve
as it changes by the hour,
new sums and divisions, twisting and turning
through the hallowed halls of my heart.

and i’m not done yet.

i am not done with this life.

this life,
that feels heavier than the moon,
as it crushes my lungs
with each misplaced breath
and lingering beat.

and she’s shining, this moon,
who lights my path home
through each long night
i spend crying out my answers in the dark.

but the questions are louder,
they call and they cry and they scream
through a voice that is mine.

i’m wondering when the noise stops,
how this life starts anew or when
the last curtain falls.

2 thoughts on “the anxiety that holds”

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