Without anxiety, I will be no poet
Without that panicked feeling
Of brethlessness, headaches
Upset stomache, and tears...
Without the desparation
Of frantically seeking a glass pipe
Filled with ripe green slumber
Or a shot glass full of liquid stupor
Or any addiction at all to calm my nerves
I will have no nerve to write

I will lose that fire
At times, I can't feel my forehead
Or my heart, for that matter
I slept over a boys house last night
And didnt even cry today
Something is horribly unsettling about that

But thank you, doctor, anyway
I will take this Zoloft twice a day
And a Xanax if my panic attacks
Last longer than 20 minutes

I guess if you say so
It must be true
The desire to live
Should be far more intense
Than the desire to write

11/24/2004

Author's Note: Blah blah blah. This sucks. I only posted it to appease myself.

Posted on 11/24/2004
Copyright © 2026 Amy Wustrin