poem

I haven’t had anxiety lately,
but this little fuck won’t leave today.
pisses me off and makes me more annoyed
that I care, but isn’t that what it’s all about?
Caring too much about what we can’t carve.
This grey area of non-understanding! So it
stands on top of us and clenches our throats
and squeezes our chests; are you OK? I’m fine
walk with me and do you see how the ground moves?

-M. Taggart