Anxiety is not a beast,
That roars and rampages,
It is swift,
And silent,
You hardly know it's there,
Until your eyes well with tears,
And your chest contains a storm,
Hot as fire and cold as ice,
Swirling down to your stomach,
And up to your throat,
Until deep breaths cannot expel any more,
And all you can do is sit quietly,
Waiting for the unwelcome tenant,
To take its leave.
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