No fairytale but my routine,
Worth a story or a few lines.
The darkness will rise again
Like a dragon lurking from its cave
The ear-splitting roar, dragon announces itself,
Wrecking the calm I gathered in the 10 mins of meditation.
Fire spitting out of its mouth,
Turning to ashes all that I built yesterday.
Claws ripping my heart out,
Bloody stains reddening my to-do list.
Stomping with its agonizingly massive claws
Crushing my will to keep standing.
And now I wonder what is worse?
Living with Anxiety imagining 1000s of ways it can all go wrong
Or witnessing one of those possibilities coming to life.
Taking the guise of a dragon
I will be expected to slay.
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 