on anxiety

I just finished a notebook that I’ve had for almost two years, and I was flipping through it when I found a poem I wrote in 2022 during a writing workshop. I’m not a poet by any means, in fact it makes me really uncomfortable, but this little poem made me smile and look back at a past version of myself with tenderness. Maybe it’ll help you, too.

anxiety is an elephant coming over routinely uninvited, curling up on my chest

she’s heavy but doesn’t realize her weight

she curls up thinking she’s helping

she stays for tea thinking she’s keeping me company

she bats her eyelashes thinking she’s lovely

so I wrap her up in a blanket, allowing her to say what she wants to say

I kindly take her empty tea cup and show her to the door

“thanks for coming,” I say, '“but I’ve got things to do without you now.”

Guess we are all poets,

ty