Everything is closing in.

I live in a castle, with gargantuan rooms

And regal tapestries

But, I’m feeling more like Rapunzel-

Trapped in a tower

In this state, I have no power

The more I perspire, the smaller things become.

I am trapped

Everything is just beyond reach-

Healing, Growth, Newness

I see it, but I’m sure that peace isn’t for me.

Anxiety is a bitch

An itch I’d rather not scratch

But like chicks in spring, it must come forth

It must be hatched

And with it, new terrors unleashed.

To the choir you preach,

So your sermons you can keep

Pardon me if I don’t try to escape

I’ve given that up as futile.

And no, I can’t stay for awhile-

I’ve made my peace

And accepted my fate

Anxiety will always be here and it has closed me off from life that I love

So I will just rest in this room that is too small and has become my coffin.

And, really, there’s no need for you to check in.

Just let that sink in…

Anxiety wins

Now, I ask, is that really so much a sin or more so me giving in?