Procrastination

I put it off 

Today.

We all know that

Tomorrow never comes

But anxiety does.

Like a ball of snow rolling down the hill:

Growing and growing and growing and growing

Faster and faster and faster and faster

Louder and louder and louder and louder

Until I can’t contain it.

Until I can’t outrun it.

Until I can’t escape it.

Sometimes

I face it 

And it explodes into tiny

Harmless pretty snowflakes.

Sometimes

I face it 

And it explodes into tiny

Sharp shards of glass.

Every time

I face it 

I know tomorrow

There will be another hill.

I wish

Sometimes 

Tomorrow would put off being

Today.

Nicci Bedson