Anxiety rips at my core
Like a knife – carves at my flesh
Jagged, uncertain lines
Blood rises to the surface
Leaks out from tattered
Crimson-soaked skin
Runs down my chest,
Making rivers of my legs
Warm, wet, slick
Pooling at my feet
Dripping between cracks
Of well-worn floorboards
Looking down, I sigh,
This is certain to leave a stain.
