Anxiety

A tear catches on my thumb

Sits, swelling, on the tip

And wobbles.

 

Something happened–

I can’t quite remember what–

remains inside me

a black pain

that floods my thoughts with red–

 

red lava that bubbles and jumps and burns.

 

I never knew there was a space between

my heart and lungs and stomach

but it does exist, or once did,

because now it’s filled with churning lead.

 

My mind is reaching for a moment–

a circle of blue, swirled with purple–

when I made a choice

Wrong

but their voices are too loud– obnoxious–

break into laughs

scrape and suck the air and spit

it back out again

Red

 

Somewhere, I know, a bull paws the ground.

I am shrouded in the crimson cloth.

I know where his horns will pierce my skin.

 

The tear, so small on a cheek,

Looms on the top of my thumb

A bursting blister.

It falls – clear – and floods my finger.

 

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