Anxiety’s Perspective: The enthralling exploits of shapeshifting

I am a clock; constantly ticking

I dwell in "what ifs"

I am fascinated by the splendor of hypothetical situations

Velocious heartbeats

Fists clenched so tight that knuckles turn white

I'm like a held breath that never gets released

I'm the butterflies fluttering in stomachs

The electric feeling surging through bodies

All the way to the tips of fingers from the tickling core of chests

I am a clock; my ticking is constant

You will grow accustomed to my shape shifting

I am here to stay