Do the anxious ever really know peace?

In the moments between the shaking

And the crying 

Because the world is out to get them

When endless hours of “what if” 

Don’t keep them up at night

Those moments between puffs 

Cigarette ashes lost to the wind

After quitting for eight months

Some brief second when the world isn’t crashing down

And the sky hasn’t fallen

Is there ever any real calm

Or does the storm forever rage

Against the confines of a mind

Always in fight or flight?


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