We’re all Unsteady here..

              Shes reaching out a hand,

      As much for something to hold onto,

             As to help pull you through….

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Anxious 

I have a nervous tick

Where my forefinger and my thumb

Try to attach to my bottom lip

In the middle of every conversation. 

Like my hand has a duty

To my mouth. 

Maybe it will shut it

Before the bad things come out. 

But I still sigh when people speak to me. 

And say it’s them that are exhausting.