anxiety / depression – Frivolous Quill

Anxiety Is the Thief of Love

I once grieved beneath insistent deadlines.
Looming, sharp, pointy expectations brushing

my head. The world holding its breath
between life and death as if I held

the cutters, trembling, over the blue
no red no yellow wire. But what have I

ever so urgently accomplished that couldn’t
have waited one more? Waited for a second

opinion, for Christ’s return, for waffles,
for forests to reclaim the Earth for

my fingers circling the length of your
back as we fall asleep?

Columbia House introduced me to Gerald Levert
in 1991, before methamphetamines replaced cassette

tapes as the drug of choice for nice, Iowa boys.
I couldn’t say no to the nice lady on the phone,

and to this day freeze in the face of the entire
service industry. Servers, cashiers, mechanics all

want to know where I want to do and suddenly I’m
that fox we passed on I-75 caught in a rictus

of terrified indecision, knowing that things have
drastically changed, things are bigger, things are

faster, and I do not understand except that they
expect an answer, a crossing, at their convenience.