Abandon in Aberancy

Strange,

I can feel my brain
racing around the track
of nervous anxiety,
derailing into a cess-
pool of phantom

thoughts.

Anxiety picks at my
brain like a vulture.
It itches like an
infected splinter, like
a ghost compelled to

haunt

every waking hour of
my life. It's annoying
and uncontrollable,
like constant hiccups.
But, still, it's as if

every

day the splinter digs
a little bit deeper, like
a worm drilling holes
into precious and pure
thoughts. I watch my

breath

swirl in misty white
clouds against the
frigid winter air. I
wonder when my mind
will feel the same.

I

think numb would be oh-so
preferrable to this
self-induced, fear coerced
hell. I find myself thinking;
How much more can I

take...(?)