obnoxious anxious

There’s a pit
in the bottom
of my stomach
where a tired
ol beastie
growls
when he yawns.
He’s
a strong arm
strong coffee
coughing
on caffeine
and pulls the reins
hard
on my jaw
with a paw
full of scratchy things
he sings
like a roar
and makes me clench
the bench
under the sky
full of storm
that was only just blue
before
in his room
doom
is the only shade
of bright
from this belly fire
I might
have to look
to the wind
for guidance
you see
perhaps if I sat
by the mango tree
could it smell like the sea?
my feet free
of shoes
and my toes
remembering the grass
my fingers
can dig away
and clutch at the dirt
the hurt
this shirt’s
hard to button
with these dirty
fingers
that shake
when it wakes
this tired ol’ beastie
when it stirs
in my tummy
funny
how he knows
oh
with his weight
and that sneer
but I’ll kick
him back good
with a trick
or three
a paper aeroplane
a popsicle and tea
under the tree
of the fruit
with the stones
we’ll stone him
with those
and glue him
with the juice
the syrup
to shuttup
and leave me
alone