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The worst part is over now, but I'm not out of the valley just yet.

My seat belt is buckled, my backpack and purse are underneath the seat in front of me, the tray is in the upright position as is my chair and, although this isn't on the flight attendant's speech of instruction, I'm clenching my teeth and gripping the arm rests and desperately thinking to inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale, because it WILL calm me down if I could only do it but of course

all I can do is think about what if we take a crash water landing and my seat cushion doesn't come out and I drown because I never learned to swim?
And my phone is already off and in my purse (which the airport calls my personal item) beneath the seat in front of me; SO
what if I die and never talk to anyone ever again, that would just be the WORST

except ...

now ...

we're in the air now ... cruising gently along ...

no turbulence ... a beautiful day ...

and after all of that,
I drift calmly to sleep,
exhausted by the effort.
Today, I attended a writing workshop at my high school. This is one of the two poems I wrote during it that I'm really, really happy with. I will probably upload an art version of this later because formatting. Also, I don't like reading poems generally, but this one really works with it and I read it and wasn't even nervous.

Also: This is a true anecdotal poem. I have a bit of an anxiety problem, and it is particularly bothersome in airports. The "worst part" for me is generally the empty anticipation while sitting around a terminal.
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June 13, 2013
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