the ambition of anxiety

I’ve found you lurking in the shadows,
bullying me to submit to you,
berating and mocking my conviction,
my relent to release my living to you.

I know who you  are and pity you,
anxiety, how lonely you must be,
to want to devote all your ambition to me.

There is no home for you here,
I don’t live in yesterdays grave,
nor tomorrow’s dream,
but stuck in the middle with me,
in the present, in the now,
you diminish,
you wither,
you lay like a wounded animal,
begging for my attention.


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