Closeness in a bond
Might not actually be 
As what it really seems;
I can put on a gentle smile 
And never tend to show 
How my body isn't agile,
How my breath isn't steady 
When I think about having that talk 
That I thought I was ready for. 

The storm might not be looming 
But the thought of it happening 
Causes an apocalypse, so big 
That the brightest day of the year
Seems like the most terrible day 
To be stepping out for a coffee.

My tongue doesn't seem to 
Function as it did before,
My bottom lip slightly trembles, 
And my words stay at the shore. 

I recognize the anchor that's 
Relentlessly trying to pin me down
For I've been here before
To seek answers to the 
Years long recurring question -
Am I being followed by 
The dark, jittering anxiety
That succeeds in giving me a kiss,
Or am I so gettable enough to be 
It's most favorite apprentice?