Tentacles of Time Brought Calamity to my Paranoia Party

The morning alarm sounds like a siren

and strikes at my head

as the minutes and hours rush in.

The seconds are tentacles

that weave around my ankles

to pull me out of bed and shake me

until loose words, calm and patience

clatter to the ground.

Some days, time is the roommate from hell

throws parties in my head

until my tongue swells in doubt

and hands reach for stability, but time

brought Calamity and Anxiety to the party.

Anxiety eyes me every day

and now grabs at my fumbling fingers

until I am all rollercoasters and merry-go-arounds

in the amusement park of its smile.

I am nervous with its confidence

and I know Calamity pockets hope while it waits

for trouble to ring the doorbell.

Time is the worse person

when you have a voicemail box full

with collection calls, and emails featuring rejection.

It reminds you only have it,

and it can have every moment of the day.

I tell Time it is a gravedigger, and it digs me out of calmness

and lays me six feet in angst, and fear.

Time reminds me it will bury me will all my sweet Anxiety,

and Calamity will be there to steal the flowers off my grave.


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