Knocking at My Door

The whispering trees and whirling winds,

Distracts the inner fears in my mind.

The gentle kiss of his lips,

Wraps me into the very moment.

The fumbling leaf in my sweaty hands,

Brings me a sense of cope.

Anxiety is there knocking at my door,

Calling me to give in.

I run and hide, I break down and cry.

Why won't it go away?

I try not to answer, but it's wanting me more.

Where is my ginger, and where is my lavender?

I toss and turn, it's now past midnight.

Anxiety is there knocking at my door,

Calling me to give in.