Haunting pangs of dread
Rise from toes to head
Lines of worry etch the brow
Wondering what will happen now
Tying the stomach into knots
Preparing for what evil plots
Phantom doubts or are they real
Damn, an onion I must peel
To find what is pushing me
To feel these feelings endlessly
But the body tingles relentlessly
A constant voice yelling at me
Demanding my energy and my time
Breathe, baby breathe, you will be fine
No need for action or to respond
It’s part of an illness, part of its con
To keep you sick, from moving on
And before you know it -it will be gone
2019©KGPetrone
Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash
Literary Arts by K.G. Petrone 
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