This Small World is Suffocating
This anxiety will get the best of me.
I am only 36.
Can you believe this shit?
Pardon the language but my hands are in control
and my mind is telling them which way to go,
I sit in this public library
surrounded by strangers who just wanted to get away.
Wait a minute, this sounds like myself.
Today I would run if my legs permitted me.
Cut up the credit cards
give away those stuffy work clothes
sell almost everything
pack a small bag and close the door.
I already have a willing spouse.
I don’t sleep
hardly even remember to breathe.
I don’t call this living, would you?
What if we drove off into anywhere,
nothing holding us back?
We are childless (by choice)
reckless in a good way
Isn’t this a great resume?
I read 3 to 4 books a week
just to keep my mind awake,
away from the anxiety I feel
when the lights go out.
This isn’t healthy and it’s starting to show.
I’m sure it would go away once we were away.
And my 3 to 4 would become 1 to 2.
It’s hard to breathe, I do nothing but think,
What if one day all I did was dream?
Write it all down, let it all out
To dream is to try where we think the most.