High on My Anxiety
<Have you ever been high on anxiety?
A sensation which crushes your very will
and buries you six feet underground,
or so it leaves you wishing,
from sentences, not of death,
but of immobilization of both body and tongue,
while run-on sentences run loose in thought,
begging for an audience,
bearing embodiments of lies,
of bottomless ominous consequence,
of Godlessness,
beyond hopelessness,
hoping for nothing but nothing,
and maybe these run-on sentences can stop running
if the anxiety would stop chasing
the very body it binds
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
