Anxiety;
A blackened midnight
whom perpetually stains the able mind.
Whose disposition inculcates illimitable insidious caves of doubt
that instill agonized pondering.

Anxiety;
It results from a sordid remark,
or an enquiring “what if”.
It screams words with sharp textures
like bark.
With chants like bees--
a constant humdrum.

Anxiety;
Fetching uncertainty from anything
like a dingy cranny
or a lost memory.
It tediously furnishes the mind
With posters of nervosity.

Anxiety;
I pity those it prances upon,
causing flush faces and blurry lenses.
Generating glass-like beads that ooze from the pores
like warm honey.
I hate it.