I tried running
But every time I fell down it caught up to me.
So, I started walking.
Now, most days, it holds my hand.
And sometimes I don’t mind
Because when you’re busy you don’t feel anxious…
Until you’re not busy anymore.
So, I took to setting consonants on fire.
A J today, and maybe an L tomorrow
Inhaling what feels like wind whistling through trees,
Exhaling file cabinets full of things that can be taken care of tomorrow
Because right now
I’m rolling up a J today, and maybe an L tomorrow
That way it doesn’t bother me
Even if just for a while.
I inhale fumes through lit wounds and exhale the desire to breathe.
Because I’m so consumed with have-tos and tomorrows.
Consumed with can I bes and will I bes and..
I have to
I have to
I have to light a J today and relax with an L tomorrow,
Because sometimes, I need to be able to breathe without thinking about it.
Tag: Anxiety
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Setting Consonants on Fire
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Collectibles
What am I if not a collection of scars?
Of scrapes, wounds, and tissue.
An encasement that has been battered and thrown against the wind.
All so that it would ease the pain felt by the soul within.
Were we not taught to roll as we fall to lessen the breaks and bruises?
Pin pricks that deposit ink in place of blood has become my solace.
Placing the story of my life on my skin
Sparing the soft flesh of the true self that guides this exterior facade.
Marking it up so that it looks more like what I imagine is close to god.
Mapping the cartography that only exists in suffering.
Recreating the outline of the land so that it soothes it instead.
Finding joy in the life we lead because it is still ours to lead
Admiring the roads and cavernous mountains crossed to have arrived in this new terrain
Find the joy in what once was pain
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What is Comfort to an Anxious Mind?
Free of pain, the easing of grief, the alleviation of distress.
I yearn for the comfort I once knew.
The tilt of a smile, the tickle of a laugh, the thunder of peace as it washes over you.
There was a time that comfort was so much more than
a rainstorm, the sand between your toes, roaming clouds in a starry night sky.
Has it always been measured in moments? Sporadic continuous efforts to
Hold on to a peace that is fleeting, and yet can alter time to stretch
a second into a minute,
a minute into an hour,
an hour into a day,
a day into a lifetime.
What would a lifetime of comfort be like? Would grief bow to it?
Instead of pain, would the thought of a lost loved one bring me serenity?
Would the thought of their absence in this realm console me?
Would my days be filled with warm teacups overflowing with coffee? Hot stew on rainy days?
Would dancing in that rain bring me relief? Would it dull the daily aches of being alive?
What is comfort to an anxious mind?
To calm the panic that is constantly on the rise.
Three things that are true,
You are loved, and that love is warm,
You exist, where there is pain there is life,
You are in control, all it takes is a thought.
Three things that I can see,
My hands with which I create the most beautiful worlds,
A blank page for those worlds to take shape in,
A pen, to release whatever form this world chooses to take.
Three things I can hear,
The racing of my heart,
The shallow end of my breath,
The voice inside my head.
I am nothing more than a connoisseur of tranquility.
Measuring all that is and may be harmonious with the turmoil that drives me.
Seeking solace in the sunsets of the lives that existed before me,
The stars that twinkle above me,
The sliver of wonder in which we all exist in the same lifetime.
Can you imagine it, perchance? Can you see the awe the world created when it allowed us to be here together?
Making creatures of comfort, monsters of habit, and spirits of peace.
A Poem a Day 