I wish my anxiety wasn’t so desperate, 

That I could plant seeds without immediately 

Needing to dig them back up because

Maybe they aren’t the right seeds or 

Maybe I don’t know how to give them what they need. 

 

I wish I didn’t feel the constant nagging

To capture every moment, every person

Because even in the happiest moments 

All I can think about is the fact that 

Everyone I know is going to die and 

So am I and what are we if there’s 

Nothing to remember us by? 

 

There are so many things 

I’m afraid I’ll never do, and 

If I don’t, that my life is wasted. 

 

Things like giving back to my parents

What they gave to me, or 

Looking into my child’s eyes for the first time, 

Or finding that one person who 

Doesn’t think I’m crazy for having

Such a whirlwind of emotions. 

 

One who isn’t as exhausted as

I am over myself.