I live on an island.
Just me and my 2.3 million thoughts.
It's getting crowded here,
I looked to the right,
and the money worries are in sight
I turn a corner,
there's housing waiting for an order
I spin around to the sound of my Independence,
crying with fear,
she may be about to be taken away
I look up and see my capabilities questioning me
I need my thoughts to stop all talking
This island is too full.
I want to get off
My finances are taking a hit
It's not my fault,
Not one bit
I can't take on anymore. My Island is about to sink
On the count of three… just stop.
A poem I wrote on the heart of stress and anxiety. I'm so glad I found poetry it's so therapeutic.