Anxiety - Poem by Adelaide Lii
Stop putting it off by flossing your teeth.
Press your bare shoulder against your cheek.
Feel it’s warmth and remember that you’re alive.
Most days, you are nothing but a mirror.
But for now there is solid (not quaking) ground beneath your feet
and you reflect the most honest of missteps.
you are more than eraser shavings.
Probably not, but the thought gives you butterflies.
Maybe you’re in love.
This is how you shuffle down hallways:
like the victim of a natural disaster.
Of tsunami’s and of acid rain.
You conjugate your verbs, decline your nouns,
and forget to clip your finger nails so
you leave them on the doorstep or in a basket by the river.
Most days, you remember your dreams
like flash floods or flash backs of suppressed memories.
There is no one to tell them to so
they die and melt and burn;
sizzle and dissolve in stomach acid or joint fluid.
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