Anxiety

This situation may be no-win,

but everyone I meet here is my friend.
Why do I feel so jerked out of my skin?

Always riding the edge of a hairpin
curve, I have no end
of anxiety, fearing this situation may be no-win.

Always wearing a fake grin
on my face, habit that lets me blend
into the scenery—beige tinge on my skin.

But whoever thinks I have a soul of tin
should know I’m hiding woes that‘d rend
cast-iron gates; says I’ll never win

know I couldn’t possibly begin
to list the million times I’ve tried to mend
this treed-fox heart beneath my skin.

It’s because I have no choice but go all-in
and I’ve borrowed every cent you had to lend,
and because this situation may be no-win,
that there’s no way I don’t feel jerked out of my skin!