Cindy Washington

Cindy Washington Poems

Wake up, check my phone, ask Siri whats on my schedule for today
Siri: you have 2 classes today and the first starts at 9: 05am
My first thought: 'let's just get through it,
and then I can come back to my dorm room'
...

SOCIAL ANXIETY.

'I can't make it.' 'Have fun without me.' 'Maybe next time.' I came out the womb with these phrases attached to my tongue. I want to hang out, but then you'll notice how uncool and socially awkward I am.
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The Best Poem Of Cindy Washington

Anxiety Through My Eyes

Wake up, check my phone, ask Siri whats on my schedule for today
Siri: you have 2 classes today and the first starts at 9: 05am
My first thought: 'let's just get through it,
and then I can come back to my dorm room'
The safest place in the world. The place of isolation.
The place where thoughts of judgement and insecurities are quieted
The place where I can unload the thousand pounds that sits on my chest

On the bus to campus, earphones in my head, music playing
The lady to my right sneezes,
And it begins:
'She's going to get me sick! ',
'Would it be rude if I pulled out my hand sanitizer right now? '
The old man opposite me stares
And it continues:
'Why is he staring at me? '
'Is there something on my face? '
'would he tell me if there's something on my face? '
These thoughts blaring louder than the music playing in my ears

Huddled masses of students get off the bus and walk to their classes
I hear giggling from behind me
And it persists:
'Is there stuff on the back of my jeans? '
'I shouldn't of worn these jeans.'
'Why God did I wear these jeans! ? '
My route to class is carefully chosen
shortest distance with the least amount of people

I enter. I take my seat.
Front row in the corner. Eyes front.
I can't see the faces behind me
I dare not turn back, whilst the chance of actually making eye contact
Eye contact:
The water-boarding equivalent to a socially anxious girl like me

Classes completed.
I head to the bus
A friend yells 'Hey Cindy! '
I turn towards him and raise my suddenly stiffened arm to wave
And it endures:
'Put your hand down'
'Why are you waving? '
'He probably thinks you're a loser for waving'
My hand drops faster than lightning
Small talk: the gun choice of your enemies

Home
I put down the backpack.
And I put down the thousand pound vest strapped to my chest
'I did it! '
Isolation, the only sound proofed to stop:
the insecurities, the worries, the voices that scream 'Help Me! '

This is my anxiety

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