Journal: Anxiety Disorder, OCD, Globus Hystericus or rather The Tale of the Little Green Snake

These wild eyes don’t belong to me. They are too blue, too hard. Some fey wildness has crept into my veins and my blood rolls like a drumbeat, the pounding rhythm of a deer in flight. My hair flies from me on the stormwind, torn from its roots and smelling like honeysuckle. When Eurus hid his scream in my chest, it sent my heart banging like a trapped bird against its cage of ribs and breath. But all is quiet…there is no sound…the words that are stuck in my throat coil like a little green snake, content to have sanctuary.

~Sculpture by Polly Morgan

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