anxiety

the only thing
keeping me sane
is pretending that I
don't exist.

under any conditions,
just a beam, shot,
from the moon.

that I am just a light,
quicker than sound and yet
be soothing like thunder.

//

the only thing
keeping me sane
is pretending that i don't
exist.

you don't either.
we, you and me
are only part of someone else's
creative soul,
implanted,
like a seed,
branching with character, in the brain,
down, building your spine.

how hard is your character?
from what exactly are you made of?

//

the only thing keeping me sane is:
writing this and the pain felt on my hips.

I am grateful for this, I can do as I please.

let's see how this feels tomorrow morning; let's see how this reads.