A Sharp and Coarse Embrace

A poem about anxiety for National Poetry Month

Image: Photo by Dan Cristian Pădureț on Unsplash

For day 14 of the National Poetry Month hosted by

V. Walker | Poet

, the task was a “Sensory Inversion Challenge.”

I chose to describe an emotion using texture.

Please enjoy.

---

Dragging down my back. 
Sharp like the tip of a knife. 
My demons claws dance, 
up and down my skin. 

Anxiety is its name.
Its touch is coarse, 
breath like sandpaper, 
whispers like razor blades. 

Even when it's far, 
I feel it like an itch. 
Raised bumps on my skin. 
My path Rocky and uneven. 

Sometimes it's gentle to me.
With a touch that’s soft like silk.
Then, its hands are around my throat. 
Glowing red iron pressed against my skin. 

I run and hide when I hear it. 
Cold water rushing over me. 
A shock to the system.
Lightning in my veins. 

Closing the distance, 
I hear its haunting laugh. 
Hitting my ears like shards of glass.
Tiny, fragile, fragments. 

I know it will never go away. 
Saliva sticky on my skin like syrup. 
I try to adapt, but it's unrelenting, 
living in its sharp, coarse embrace. 

---

Thanks for Reading, Here’s Your Musical Pairing

Listen to this after reading, like pairing a glass of wine with dinner.