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199: Anxiety


anxiety danced around my ribs

like a bird in a cage.

Both you and I know

birds are not meant to be caged.

They are meant to be released-

So I threw open the cage door,

which felt less like an act of grace

and more like a reluctant

pushing off of blankets

and lacing up of tennis shoes.

I walked my bird body

to the river

and there at her banks

I stomped out

two and a half miles

of chilly release.

Hair blowing in the wind,

nose pink with the cold,

eyes brimming with tears

for both the beauty

and the hurt of this world,

and wouldn’t you know,

that pesky canary

took flight.

We both sang a new song.

Birds are not meant to be caged.

Written by Sarah Speed // Writing the Good

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Hi, thanks for stopping by!

I'm Sarah (Are) Speed, the writer behind Writing The Good. I'm so honored you're here! To get more poems, follow @writingthegood on Facebook and Instagram! 

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