My Dear Friend, Anxiety #350

They say anxiety’s a gift from our past,
A primal edge that keeps dangers surpassed.
Sharpens our senses, our reasoning keen,
A watchful companion, a watchful machine.

You, my dear friend, ensure homework’s on time,
Get me to work when the world feels unkind.
Prepare for the worst, a shield for the blow,
But you follow me everywhere, don’t you know?

To pizza with friends, to meetings so grand,
To casual dates, you’re always at hand.
A table for four, a twisted delight,
With self-doubt and fear as your guests in the night.

Cracking harsh jokes on every move I make,
Watching from corners, a joy you forsake.
Beside me at night, when sleep takes a flight,
We stare at the ceiling, bathed in pale light.

Some days, like an elephant, heavy and vast,
You sit on my chest, stealing each breath at last.
Yet, even when darkness whispers despair,
I rise from the ashes, a burden to bear.

You don’t kill me, friend, perhaps you’re entwined,
A twisted affection, a role I must find.
My anxiety, sculptor, you shape me each day,
A complex creation, come what may.