A Tale of Two Anxieties, 2003

A Tale of Two Anxieties,
in collaboration with Kyle Nobles

ANXIETY to KYLE:

1

Sit back and let the panic sink in.
It’s you I’ve chosen to befriend.
I will stay here,
and never leave you alone.
‘Cause deep within your mind I belong.

I will never surprise you, nor let you down.
Hey, let’s turn that smile on your face upside down.
I’m trapped inside your stomach;
hear me cry.
For I will be with you,
until the day that you die.

I will cause you untold pain,
Okay, say it slowly, my name:
AN-XI-ETY,
as you call me.
I’m everything negative, please believe.
Take a pill, and try to relax.
I’m gone for now,
but I’ll be back.

KYLE to ANXIETY:
Please, oh please, Anxiety,
please, oh please, let go of me.
I’m not at all what you’ve made me.
If you had eyes I’m sure you’d see—
all the pain you’ve given me.

It’s a fight that you can’t win;
my friend Benzo shows the end.
I’m sorry, now,
for it’s too late.
If you could stop me—how?
You’re in the past,
and now, at last,
I have no worries now.

The chains are broken.
This I’ve found:
life is good; you’re not around.
If life’s a joke, then I’m the clown.

So turn around and go your way.
I’ll deal with you some other day.
So now that you’ve let go of me,
rest in peace, AN-XI-ETY.

 

ANXIETY to BRANDON:

1
Knock, knock!
“Who’s there?”
Anxiety!
Trick or treat or misery?

Have some more pain in your chest.
Don’t even dare to try to rest.
You can’t relax.
You can’t feel safe.
ATTACK! ATTACK!
Put a gun to your face.

HA! HA! HA!
That’ll keep me out.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You’ll try to run,
and scream, and shout.
A thousand pills won’t drown me out.
So down them now, and there, relax,
but they’ll wear off,
and I’ll be back.

BRANDON to ANXIETY:

 

Anxiety, anxiety,
why do you pull and squeeze on me?
What have I done so wrong?
Some past mistake?
No, hold on;
wait;
I’ll worry all night long,
about,
the voices that inside me shout.

About this and about that,
more;
and in my head I see a shore.
With blind men running,
crying, blind;
anxiety’s not far behind.
And not too far ahead,
I see—
a downpour of misery.

Anxiety now pulls the strings;
like I’m another puppet thing.
With dull scissors,
that cannot cut—
the controlling strings around me,
but,
Benzos again, my yellow friends,
know how to shut you up.

I find remorse, alone at its source,
and that I wish to drown.
And when I’m there, without a care,
I’ll jump up and down.
Until at last, you’re in the past,
and cannot make not a sound.

ANXIETY to KYLE:

2

You thought I left,

But you were wrong.
A broken record,
same ‘ol song!
I am back,
stronger than ever.
I flatter myself; I’m so clever.
You thought that I would go away?
Ha! I’m back,
and here to stay!
So go ahead and have your say!


KYLE to ANXIETY:

That’s how it is,
and how it stays.
As you’ve requested,
here’s my say:
GO AWAY AND STAY AWAY.
This mental battle ends today.

I’ve been in a three round fight,
with you, my mental parasite.
What is there left for me now?
Take more pills and then lay down?
I feel it now, a great relief,
without your tightening grip ‘round me.

I’ll lay down,
and get some sleep;
‘cause I’ll be ready,
next time we meet.

ANXIETY to BRANDON:

2

Thought you had eluded me?
Not so, my slave,
now you behave.
Just kick your legs;
rock back and forth.
You can’t outrun your mind,
the source.

The source is me, inside your head.
I’m what you fight when you’re in bed;
the source of pain, the source of grief,
I’ll leave you shaking like a leaf!

Eat some pills, and block me out,
but once they fade, again, I sprout,
HA! HA! HA!
I’m back again!
ANXIETY WILL NEVER END.

So try to run,
and try to hide!
You can’t outrun what’s trapped inside;
this beautiful misery will never subside.
I’m in your mind, and now it’s mine;
I’ll bounce inside your head and try,
to drive you MAD BEFORE YOU DIE.

I’ll eat you from the inside out.
Go on scream.

Go on shout.
A thousand tears won’t drown me out.

Cry, and hide!
What can you do—
with my invisible hands on you?

BRANDON to ANXIETY:

I’ve danced with you for ten years now,
and I’ve survived,
some way, somehow.
But now I must move on.
I’ll write some books,
I’ll write some songs,
some melancholy sing alongs.
And you will be there, on your own,
there in the past, to stay, at last,
not in my chest, restricting breath,
trying to choke me until death.
Now I am free,
with your hands off me.
Goodbye old friend, Anxiety.

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