Anxiety’s Whisper

We all carry voices inside us, some nurturing, others fearful. This poem explores an intimate, internal conversation with anxiety. Not as a villain, but as a misunderstood part of us, begging to be heard.

You speak so softly, like winds before the storm,

A whisper curled in the corners of my mind.

Not loud, but still, you shift my inner form,

Distorting the peace that I had hoped to find.

I only come when something isn’t right,

To warn, to guard, to keep you from the fall.

You see the dark; I merely bring the light,

A flickering truth behind your papered wall.

But why at dusk when silence seeks to rest?

Why twist my thoughts until they spiral tight?

Your shadow crawls inside my weary chest,

And turns the calmest day into a fight.

Because I know what hides behind your smile,

The weight you bear, the cracks beneath your skin.

I dress in fear, but walk with you each mile,

A sentinel for pain you hold within.

Yet you are not a friend. I feel the chains,

The racing pulse, the breath I cannot catch.

You echo worst-case scenes in looping lanes,

And hold me captive in your latching latch.

Then listen close this truth I must confess:

I grew from seeds of wounds you never named.

I'm not your foe, but chaos in distress,

A voice born from the hurt you never tamed.

Then let us sit and speak beneath the trees,

No longer foes, but neither quite allied.

I’ll breathe through you and bend beneath your breeze,

But I won’t let you steer or be my guide.

That’s all I sought, to be seen, not obeyed,

To whisper, not to wound with every sound.

If you can lead, then I will softly fade,

And in your stead, may steadiness be found.

If you’ve ever felt consumed by anxiety, know this: You are not alone. This piece reminds us that even our most restless inner voices want to be understood, not feared.