But this home, that is he, never truly belonged to me. My home was broken and bent and it needed fixed. My new home, still is covered in scars and has become so new and so strong that I do not know how to properly love it. Him. He breathes and breathes, never does he fade away now. This house had become a home and I can not shake it from my bones. Him. His touch rests on my fingertips like old shoes lay in the back of the closet, always there, always treasured, always wanted. I am no longer cracked sidewalk, but the daisies that arise through them.

Anxiety
is a breath never released
suffocation of the lungs
and the whole of your mind
Anxiety
is a clock
that never stops ticking
with the constant click, from past to present
Time never ends
and oh darling
nor does anxiety.