Every Day

A curtain is dropping, 

And folds into a monstrous face,

And then melts into the floor, and then the floor is torn…

The days ends.

All my anxieties are like that.

All my anxieties are the same.

I have lists,

I have my journal.

A new day begins,

An old anxiety begins.

What I need is an endless sheet of paper to write them all down.

But that just melt too.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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