Doubt pulls me into a chasm of dread. Spiraling in darkness. Out of control.
Stop!
Hope glimmers briefly—but the bonds of anxiety choke it.
No!
Let go. Breathe deep.
Resilience sparks… grows. I grasp a flicker, encourage and feed it.
The glow swells… black shadows recede.
I’ve got this.
Tawnia is an elementary teacher in Ontario who started writing a few years ago. You can find her on Twitter @TawniaCourage.
Anxiety forces another beam of steel through my belly,
apprehension caps my lungs,
and tangles them in wire.
Electricity jolts my chest
yanking a mechanical heart to life.
Oil slicks my throat
choking me into silence.
Perhaps terror stole my voicebox
too
and only the gears in my brain
scream.
Maria copes with stress by listening to Steam Powered Giraffe, and writing strange poetry.
When I was little, they tried to teach me to eat spaghetti properly; twist it round and round my fork, then stop. I always froze, mesmerized by the spinning.
Anxiety’s like that, too. They tell you to worry, worry, then cope. But I just get stuck watching my mind whirl.
Maria attends college in the Midwest, and loves that microfiction fits neatly into her study breaks.