a poem by Jule Heyen, English
Content warning. May contain spoilers.
anxiety
Eat your dinner, child, they say
Let there will be rain some day
But rain is what you feel inside
’Cause you can never get it right
You write and write the whole night long
But what you write is always wrong
It is as if a curse upon your
Mind for which there is no cure
You stay up to the light of dawn
But hate everything you’ve drawn
How do they make it look so right?
So simple, while you have to fight?
The homework piles up on the floor
You cannot even see the door
Drowning in grades administered
Sinking more every minute and
You slip and slide and fall and swerve
Around praise that you
Never feel like you deserve
So try again another day
They say
But panic strikes me, I don’t know
If I’ve thrown it all away
But you can do it
They say
They are convinced that that is true
But I’m just…
never finished