The Essence Of Who I Am

I imagine my life like a little girl

Sitting in a room

Full of bouncing balls

All of various sizes

And every ball represents a task of some sort

But she can only handle what she can carry

Her arms seem constantly full

And then she eerily looks up at the ceiling

And to her horror, she sees a huge shadow of a ball looming over her

It’s her anxiety

She looks around and it’s overwhelming

She picks up more and more balls

But they just keep falling

The cycle seems to be never-ending

M.A.P

©2023