Fidgety nerves rumbling dreams,
Never sought out to be in seams.
Spontaneity desecrating the sense of calm,
Scouring the smudge, over the squeaky clean palm.
Squirming, the urge to begin again,
Even, the number of steps in the rain.
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Blithering incoherently to self,
Shaking down in a song, like a holiday elf.
Ah, the equilibrium a herculean feat,
Anxiety over the desk, so neat.
Come take a look at my world,
As every moment I threaten to unfurl;
Right down to the bone, it crept up,
Relishing its feel over a mind so secure.
Intrusive, its hold on my mind grows stronger,
As the fight against it becomes harder.
Struggle to survive, to battle the demons,
Pushing through the good days and the bad alike.
One, two, three, five, seven, eleven,
I shall leave after one fifty seven.
One fine day I will be all right,
Till then I shall hold on tight.
