a collaboration…

Free my soul
I had a fatal flaw of anxious worry.

It is wild on paper, but in thoughts,

self destructive.

I feel it rolling in again.

I can barely grasp this pen, hands are shaking so hard.

And

I can barely think straight.

What is wrong with me?

I don’t know anymore

What is wrong with me?

I should be able to keep my thoughts in check, those impending thoughts I know so well,

‘Cause those worrisome thoughts brought me here.

I feel it too often.

I think too much.

Maybe I’m not as nice as I think,

Or…

Maybe I am just too much.