Anxiety

It's being young,

controlling the air traffic

with your mind

and the moves

of your mother

before GPS

was even

a thing.

It's feeling

death as you

walk your dog

because how

dare you even

have a dog

in a world

that's bent

on killing

it?

It's moving

all the cards

into a precarious

castle,

waiting for them

to fall until

they do

one day in

September

when you're only

sixteen,

and the same

planes you

control

with your mind

have defied

you, flying

into buildings

instead

of the deep

blue freedom

you've granted

them.

It's knowing

the outcome

even when it

never truly

is the outcome—

a dark shadow

of reality

that could be

true, but even

if it is,

I've always

missed

the point.

That You

are sovereign,

I am not.

And You knew

those planes

my mother

that dog

and my

wayward

mind

even

before

they

were

a

twinkle

In Your

heart.