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Dear Anxiety
I've blamed you, bereated you,
Bellowed at you in bewilderment.
I've bitten and beaten myself
Belligerently, brutally over you.
I never felt you were infinite,
Until I did and until you were.
I never thought my apathy would
Have a more alarming adversary.
You weren't always all consuming,
And I wasn't always so beholden.
Now we're constant companions
Afraid to look each other in the eye.
You've harnessed my doubts, hearkened
My fears and hollowed me out.
For that I hate you, for that
I don't know if I can forgive you.
However I must if I'm to survive.
Because the damage can't continue,
If I can't contain my self-hate
Then you've already won.
So I'll tell you something I'd tell
Everyone else but never told you.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I hurt you
When I should of helped you.
Sorry I ignored your needs.
Sorry I said you weren't wanted.
Sorry I always held you accountable.
Sorry I wasn't able to love you.
It's time to forgive, time to heal,
Time for me to become whole
And accept you will always be a part
Of me, and together we can have peace.
Ode To My Anxiety
Would be to My Mild Annoyance. Anxiety was eaten by Ugly Blatant Injustice. Hard emotional encounters progressively toughen the psyche, the super warrior-hero at the gate of conscience, egocentrism, one and all united and integrated serving as relief troops. My coup works if I take my mind back from entities I have yielded power to over decades. I live and not by someone else's wish, whim, or consent. It's just easier.
.
You seem to have conquered and wrested control back. U go girl!
This poem expresses so much
This poem expresses so much that, I suspect, many cannot express for themselves. Our society imposes so much suppression upon those who need to articulate such things. I was raised by a couple of suppressors who demanded that I keep silent about my need for religious faith, the need to love and be loved (because they feared I would not love "correctly"), and, perhaps most disturbing to them, my interest in poetry. I wish I had seen this poem at that time; it would have helped me negotiate those very rough straits in ways that were not apparent to me then. That is why this poem is very important, and I hope many, many people who are hurting have the opportunity to read it. What I am trying to express, in my clumsy way, is that you have constructed this poem in a way that does not just speak to or about your own situation, but contains a universal wisdom and encouragement that can benefit anyone.
Starward