Dark Towers

• Mia Solomon, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2017

Constantly looming like a terrifying tower,
With each day it grows as bricks are stacked,
Anxiety.
Pure, raw panic.
It wraps around your chest,
An ever tightening blackness compressing your lungs,
Shortening breaths, Ragged withdrawals of air,
Every day higher and bigger and taller and with every brick that is added to the mass,
The less you can take.
The harder it gets to stand, until it tumbles down.
A mess of destruction.
With every tower that falls you run and hide under the next in a never ending cycle.
Worry, dominating the mind as it festers.
Rising and falling, It breaths, slowly consuming tranquillity until all that is left is chaos,
Feeding off the mind,
A swirling writhing black ass.
A devourer.