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Agitation
His teeth are worn down from constant grinding like those Ancient Egyptian mummies whose dental damage indicates lots of gritty grains of sand got baked into their bread. His sweet little sister Anxiety curls up in armchairs in the fetal position. Sweet baby, she whispers when prompted, but Agitation is leg-- bouncing, Silly Putty-- pulverizing. He often feels more like a wild animal than a human, locked in fight-or-flight mode by dogged predator pursuit. He’s hairy and unkempt, arching his back like a bristling, threatened Halloween cat. He reads Where the Wild Things Are and empathizes with the monsters gnashing their terrible teeth. His bushy unibrow desperately needs to be plucked into submission. Sometimes when he lashes out verbally, you mistake him for Anger. (Yeah, you.) But the gnarly truth is, he’s jealous of Anger. He’s envious of how Anger’s energy has somewhere to go, a target to bullseye. Poor Agitation folds in on himself, crumpled and edgy as a discarded ball of tinfoil.
#Unreal #Poem #Agitation #Fear #Anger #Emotions #Wild #LockedIn
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