anxiety
rocket fuel
coursing through
my insubstantiality
haven’t been able
to relax.

cooking. cleaning.
not writing.

incomplete words
keep me fretting.

trapped
in constant motion
yet no matter how
i try
never moving
where i desire.

not sure how
i fucked it all up
but the
raw nerves
lit up
with crackling burst
of doubt
and self hatred
assure me,

i did.

so much anxiety
rocket fuel
i need to feel
substantial
not just a ghost
tattered
clinging
to a world
that has no interest.

incomplete words
a forgotten fool
left to fret
in an encroaching
blizzard
of his own failings.

please
make me
whole
even if for only
a moment.