My anxiety speaks and I listen 

to the language I’m fluent in. 

On auto pilot, 

she seems to take comfort 

in reminding me of every single 

awkward interaction

I’ve lived through. 

My anxiety speaks and I listen. 

I’m sorry I avoided you, 

she told me to for why would anyone 

want to say hi to me. 

So it’s best to keep to myself lest 

every handshake that lingered far too long 

replay on loop in my mind 

reminding me why I chose to ignore you 

in the first place. 

My anxiety speaks and I listen. 

It’s been far too long since she moved in. 

When she first arrived, 

it was a haven however,

she saw the need to redecorate. 

She was only to stay a few days, 

But like that overbearing cousin 

she chose not to leave. 

Turning my happy place to my personal hell. 

My anxiety speaks and I listen. 

She’s the devil’s advocate 

perched on my right shoulder,

forever reminding me of the past, 

overlooking the present 

& crippling me with fear for the future. 

My anxiety speaks and I listen. 

Now I have no choice but to listen. 

for with the passing of time, 

the right amount of poison 

begins to taste sweet and savory.