I’ve been doing a lot of figuring out these past few weeks. There’s been a lot of new schedules, both with exciting things and really hard stuff popping up. And I’m not really sure where this came from, but I’ve been thinking a lot about anxiety lately. So it decided to pop into this poem.

Train of Thoughts is based off the prompts from my January prompts post. It’s a new kind of format than my usual one–for some reason, it’s in a sort of Southern voice, and it’s more of story than a concept kind of thing. But it was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy ❤

New beginnings are a force to reckon with.

See, on one hand, I’m excited,

‘cause my mind is spiralin’

sparkin’

dizzy

click click clickin’ with possiblites

with thoughts of life ahead of me.

A whole new year to play with. 

A brand new station on the train of life.

This is a year of change

a year of challenge

a year of conquerin’

and then

whoops.

A door’s swinging open at the back of my train.

My mind starts to spiral

starts to spin

dizzin’

dancing in a whirlwind of what-if’s?

My train’s tryin’ to jump off the tracks—

Hush, I tell them, I’m dancin’ right now,

in a pretty velvet dress.

dancin’ right into my new life. My life 

to conquer. 

and then not-so-little, ol’ faithful anxiety slips back in

slamming the door behind her

all loud and nonsense.

she keeps trying to dance along with me

but she’s messing up all the steps. 

Always tryin’ to ruin everything. And whoops, 

that’s makin’ her trip even more, 

and now we’re both tumbling like weeds in the wind

and I never wanted her here

but she dragged me along with her 

to this strange car 

in the back of my mind.

It’s dark in here. 

Whispers slinks 

along the walls. Shadows 

creeps up behind me. I can smell

hints of that cologue

I never wanted to smell that cologne again

but here we are. And lil’ ol’ anxiety’s just singing in the corner,

grinning at me with those thoughts of her.

What-ifs, what-nows, how dare yous.

A whirlwind of thoughts.

The windows are rattling, and I don’t remember

when I fell to my knees.

I think anxiety pushed me.

Those what’ifs, what-nows, how dare yous are twistin’

rattling the windows

creepin’ up in the dark—

And that cologne—

Filling my world. Feels like its turning this train

backwards on the tracks. All this journey

backwards from a smell.

Crazy how that can happen.

But this is a year of conquering.

The windows rattle harder. I shove a hand to my heart,

suck in a breath

whisper through a prayer

push myself to my feet

This is a year of challenge.

Anxiety’s still in the corner, full-blown

laughing at me.

I turn on my heel, and stride,

head held high

towards the door of this train car

even though my hands

shake.

This is a year of change.

The closer I get to the door,

the stronger that cologne smell gets.

I stop at the door, wrapping myself up tight

anchoring myself.

It’s a door I can open. I can do this.

I suck in another breath.

My gaze falls, to a crate of shadows and stories at the door.

Memories.

Dolls with handmade pink dresses.

Worn blankets. Purple and soaked in hugs and comfort.

A pretty black necklace, with crystals and dark pearls.

A thin blue bottle, of cologne, spilling over everything.

I hold my breath.

I loved that necklace. 

And it was covered in his cologne.

But I loved that necklace.

I reach forward

past the crate, past

memories and cologne, and reach

for the door handle.

I twist it open.

Anxiety’s laughs aren’t as loud behind me anymore.

I pull open the door, and light spills into my eyes.

Wind’s spilling through my hair. I rise my face to the sky.

Wind’s caressing my ears, blocking out the noise.

I step forward, sucking in a deep breath 

of fresh air.

The next car’s right in front of me,

over the link of the cars.

Right beneath me is a dozen rails, tracks

whizzing by. 

Click click click click click click

travelin’.

I turn, balancing at this car of cologne, and shut the door.

A lock rattles at the handle. Anxiety’s cackles start back up.

Muffled from the door, but there.

I grip the lock.

I could shove it all away, here and now.

Never have to smell that cologne again.

Never have to heard those rattlin’ windows,

never have to feel those shadows on my back.

But that necklace…

And those dolls.

That blanket…

with its hugs and its love.

Anxiety had already taken an entire car on my train. 

I couldn’t let anxiety take those, too.

Not my love and my memories.

I drop the lock, 

letting it clatter to the ground, along with the

click click click click of the tracks.

I leap across the link, over the click click tracks,

onto the next car.

I pull open the door, swinging back into

the light, the music, the laughter of my

dearest passengers on this train

The car I left behind keeps rattlin’

at the back of my train.

It’d be a battle for another day.

For now, it was time to go back to my dancing.