oh its spilling out of me
like luke-warm lava
supposed to be unbearable to touch
but actually is so familiar

i don’t want to welcome you back
the lump in my throat
the forcing back of tears
losing the ability to simply breathe

my stomach knots over and over
crossing paths as the hurt churns inside
waving at the butterflies
who have made my stomach their home

words racing round and round
pushing dread further and further down
until dread, despair and pain hide in every crevice

dread lurking in the shadows
depair tiptoes around my bones
pain hides and puts on its disguise

you know, the worst part is
i don’t know why
or actually i know that there are so many whys
and i can’t begin to use one as blame

so my aura takes the shape of my dear friend,
anxiety
welcome back i guess…
do you think if it cry, it will become less?

yes