Imagined Horrors

 

I imagine horrors.

Things too terrible for

polite poetry, run through

my mind as my anxiety

builds.

 

I am riddled with anxieties,

a side effect of the clinical

depression, which makes

doing things,

difficult.

 

The things I imagine happening,

are very unlikely to happen, yet

my mind has no problem creating

scenarios so disturbing I cannot

simply ignore them.

 

I would of course prefer not

to imagine my ears bleeding from a

ruptured ear drum, or slipping and

falling on ice and landing on my face,

knocking all my teeth out.

 

I’d really rather not see those

images in my mind.

Imagined violence, shootings,

death, carnage, fires, stampedes,

once unlikely, now terrifyingly tangible.

 

I have to fly on a business trip soon

and I am extremely wound up about it.

Traveling and I are not generally friendly.

I’m happy to be places, but the getting there

is a minefield of horrible "What Ifs".

 

I know, rationally, that I’ll be fine,

that everything will probably be fine,

I’ll travel without incident, and it’ll be

a successful trip…, yet, I’m not 100%

about it. I’m still worried…

 

That the worst will happen,

and my irrational horrors will come into

being and drag us all to the gates of Hell,

or you know, something like that.

It’s always something like that.