Anxiety: The Man at My Door, a Poem


My old love knocked on my door tonight,

“No,” I mumbled as I turned off the porch light.

I kept on, but then he knocked again,

“Oh darling,” he whispered, “please let me in.”

From my head to toes, my body froze,

“For a minute,” I said, turned up my nose.

He waltzed through the door with such confidence,

He acted like he said every word he meant.

He flirted with captivating charm,

I knew better, but I was not at alarm.

He was a man I wanted to please,

He reached for my hand, putting me at such ease.

I want him back, I thought to myself,

Regardless of how he is bad for my health.

He kissed my lips, filling me with lust,

Saying all the right things, he was easy to trust.

He reached for my hand, saying, “Let’s go,”

He wanted one thing; he would not be my beau.

Pushing him, I pointed to the door,

Screaming, “Get out, anxiety. We are no more!”

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Thinkstock photo via lolostock.

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