Anxiety – R.W.

Choked up
A big ball
Made of nothing
And everything
Air and spit
And anxiety
And dread
I can feel the shape
Filling the gap
Between the back of my mouth
And my throat
Solid and slimy
Perfectly round
With its own veins pumping blood
Sustaining the life
Of this imagined anomaly
The physical representation
Of the worry inside my brain

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