anxiety. poetry? by Aditi Upadhyaya

anxiety. poetry?

Aditi Upadhyaya

I feel anxiety in my right foot in the middle of conversations at the dinner table doing my laundry solving an equation my right foot starts shaking suddenly, abruptly and I have to excuse myself I graze my fingers over my palms I count the number of things I can see I wanted to write a poem on my anxiety in the hopes it will make me feel better less anxious, even i am trying so hard to make this poetic but we can’t romanticise this my anxiety is not poetic it is deadly, scary, dangerous it is not sacred, not beautiful so the next time my right foot starts shaking and I run away to graze my fingers over my palms I will just remind myself these are the same hands that bleed poetry anxiety is not poetry but my hands are and I will keep telling this to myself until either my anxiety goes away; or becomes poetry