I don’t try to look at the negative
but my anxiety does.
I don’t get angry or hold a grudge,
but my anxiety does.
I don’t overthink things
but my anxiety does.
I don’t care what others think of me
but my anxiety does.
I don’t get stuck on little things
but my anxiety does.
I don’t think my life is hopeless
but my anxiety does.
I tell myself
not to worry;
everything will be fine.
But my anxiety doesn’t listen.
I tell myself
let them be negative.
You can still be positive.
But my anxiety doesn’t listen.
I tell myself
their words have no power
unless I give it to them.
But my anxiety doesn’t listen.
I tell myself
to ignore their drama;
Don’t let it affect you.
But my anxiety doesn’t listen.
I tell myself
to just let it go;
Move on with your life.
But my anxiety doesn’t listen.
When I was a little girl,
I used to be afraid of
the monsters under my bed.
You know, the ones that
only come out when you
are looking in their direction
and have the job of scaring
innocent little children.
I imagined monsters with
poisonous tounges,
dark cold eyes, sometimes
with more than one face.
I imagined monsters
whispering noises
I couldn’t understand
just loud enough to hear,
to remind me they were there.
As time went by and I grew up,
I told myself they weren’t real.
And I believed myself
all these years
until I began to work with them.
Baffy Basics 