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Anxiety poetry

Here is a poem from a reader:

Definition 
 
“What's wrong with you?” they say,
“Can't you calm down for just a moment,
Take a deep breath--
Slow down,
Get centered and
Relax.
Stop being so damn negative,
What's the worry,
What's the hurry?
You can't solve every problem,
Let it go--
Hey not so fast.
Maybe, yes just maybe
If you stopped being so damn frightened
Well then maybe for a moment 
All those fears would dissipate,
If you just stopped your overthinking 
Your hypotheticals,
Possibilities,
If you let life flow all around you
You'd have that peace you say you crave.”
 
But they are wrong.  
 
Anxiety isn't nervousness.
Anxiety isn't cowardice.
Anxiety is a call to those 
Whose eyes are open to the fight. 
 
It is a certain sensitivity
An alertness;
A war machine never idle
There’s a buzzing below the surface, 
There is no calm before this storm. 
It is the constant sentinel
Vigilant in clash with 
Paralysis,
There is no honor, 
No heroism in this struggle
Whose burden countermands reward.
 
It is not the soldier’s nature to relax.
 
It is an instinct,
It is concern for you, for me, for others,
It is a special steadfast mutiny
When
Psyche fights the soul.
 
You say it is a weakness.
You subject me to societal court martial,
Though you cavalierly create conflicts
You say I am afraid.
But those consummate in combat,
Introspective and insightful,
True veterans of life’s battles
Know,
It's fear defines the brave.

Josh Mayesh