my anxiety is dissolving,
which is causing me physical stress
at night.
it's almost like withdrawal
from an addiction,
because like booze and heroin,
anxiety eats your soul
until it tricks you to think you need it.
especially as an artist,
sometimes you are taught
that the scars make you creative,
but I am learning that is
categorically wrong and dumb.
if I am never here in this life,
feel the lack;
as a poet and an evolving purpose,
there is no better place
to be sad and read Pond by Claire Louise Bennet
than in the garden.