My Fear Named Boris
A poem about G.A.D.
My fear named Boris. He lives in my head.
I place it in the people that I recently met.
I place it in the people that I even don’t know
I place it in the things I`ll explain it below.
My mama and grandma were the rough people type.
A normal Russian family that fits your stereotype.
My life was not made from the petals of roses.
We did not talk much, but they gave me neurosis!
So back to The Boris, that lives in my head.
I should be in therapy I`m here instead.
The force of inner fear got aggravated lately
And suddenly all people are treating me badly.
The people in the bus! Oh! Those are the worst.
The people in the office would do their utmost
To show me that I don’t belong and must be gone
By asking me aggressively, `Are you okay, hun?`
The danger is around, the danger is so close!
The problem in the people and not my brain, of course!
I see it it is real and threatening as hell
I called to my anxiety and asked to be dispelled.
Untreated mental illness in my case G.A.D.
Is not considered dangerous, but to some degree,
Seclusion and anxiety is a risky combination
Please care for yourself and take your medication!
