Author: A.P. Gregory PM
I have an anxiety disorder and I actually wrote this poem for therapy. My therapist thought it would be a good idea that next time I had an anxiety attack that I should write about what I was feeling and the sensation of the attack. And I did just that, writing down all my feelings and perceptions of the attack and it came out as sort of a messed up poem. This is what I wrote.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Poetry/Angst - Words: 96 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Published: 08-06-12 - id: 3048330
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I was born with whispers.
Among them, in them, chained by them.
They are the twisted songs I hear at midnight
When I sit clenching, scratching in bed
Trying to sever flesh and bone from soul.
They find cracks in melting ice,
Chinks in ancient stone,
Holes in tattered silk.
Broken, I become them, gnarled and twisted as oak,
Until I am lost.
Watching my writhing body,
A puppet with strings tangled.
Threadbare and forgotten,
My soul is caught in limbo
But I must return to the whispers.
I am condemned to their songs