Most of what I live in fear of,
in the shadows of anxiety
are circumstances fabricated by my mind.
They come from within me,
my own doing,
and break me.
If they come from me
they can end with me too.
I live my life through the words I write
Most of what I live in fear of,
in the shadows of anxiety
are circumstances fabricated by my mind.
They come from within me,
my own doing,
and break me.
If they come from me
they can end with me too.
I can acknowledge the discomfort
and the depths it reaches
down into my blood and bones.
I can see it there,
give it a name,
inspect and observe its nature,
its behavior.
Why has it chosen to bury here
in my body?
What does it yearn to tell me,
to show me?
How can I help it heal, move on?
What can I find in the space
it leaves behind?
I can acknowledge the discomfort
and grant it permission
to help me heal,
and grow.
Listen to her whispers.
They come from deep within
telling you what you already know,
reminding you of what you need
reminding you of what you’re meant to do
and nudging you forwards,
towards them.
Listen to her whispers
follow them
before they become screams.
Still
as the tiny beads of sand
resting in the bottom of an hour glass
finding, at last, their resting place,
for now.