Cold sweats-forgotten regrets
miscellaneous thoughts about
all of the rest of my ****** debts
that I don't even owe to you, or anyone else,
for that matter.

For this matter, it doesn't matter what I think
or what actions I take, or don't take,
wishy-washy is my middle name
and sometimes
-it feels like you hardly know me-
my greatest friend: anxiety.

You've ground my teeth to dust
and creaked my bones the last,
I've done crawled out of bed
-which for quite long you've asked-
Take a long look at all the nothing
I've amassed.

Lately my years, they've blended together.
An amalgam of my bittersweet thoughts
too tasteful so that taste itself becomes meaningless,
a blur of flavors, a blur of time, a blur
in the sole blink of a singular eye-

-General-eyes-d Anxiety.