An Open Letter

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Dear Anxiety,
Today I am still stuck in my skin.
The same skin I wrestled with yesterday.
I avert my eyes from the reflections, but am consumed with worry by what everyone might be seeing.
I looked.
I wanted to ease out and leave the shell behind, chaos erupts through my veins at the thoughts of leaving.
I'm kidnapped back to the bed and hide under the sheets so as not to be exposed.
The beating of my heart is quick and scared of the intruder sneaking in while I panic over the too tight cotton being shoved down my throat.
The clicking pen is echoing throughout the room and i'm still trapped under feathers that won't subside --
and I don't understand that I don't understand what I don't understand.
This furnace causes fear-thriving flutters throughout my legs that carry me back to recheck what my neighbors are seeing.
I'm pacing my cage, but the door is wide open.

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