Fleeting Anxieties

My fingers wrapped tight around warmth,

a coffee cup trembles, revealing my harm.

Cuticles frayed, ragged edges laid bare,

a nervous habit, a reminder of care.

Each jagged hangnail tells tales of regret,

a battlefield marked by moments unmet.

I glance at the clock, waiting, still fraught,

the silence swells with unspoken thought.

These small burdens creep in, a whispering shout,

yet here I sit, wanting to claw my way out.

What holds me together feels fragile at best,

a dance of anxiety, stripped from my chest.