before I am consumed

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    before I am consumed

    anxiety has risen
    it crept up like a thief
    and has anchored
    in the pit of me
    I am fumbling stones
    slate to fire
    burning up inside
    I search for colors
    to bring tranquility back
    I conjure pictured beauty
    behind my eyes
    slow my breathing
    to match my heart
    I must slip away
    out the back door
    before I am consumed
    by inflamed nerves

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    knight4696 commented on before I am consumed

    10-25-2009

    A very visual look into the maddening world of anxiety. Your wording is superb! Great Job!

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Hathor4Wine’s Poems (91)

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