Anxious Kind of Sins

No one bothered to tell me at any point

that anxiety would grip my inner ears

and behind my eyes

when all alone well after the sun

lowers his face behind the skyline;

That I would seize up in unnecessary fear

when the light slid low

closer to my bed time

and the winds would knock at the back door

loud enough to wake not only my dachshund 

from slumber, but the latent off-beat 

of my heart that had managed to stay

under control for this many years so far.

But this is sore.

So sore.

I ache.

Ache so fierce.

And this misaligned heart hopefully contends 

that one day it will relax and atone

for these anxious kind of sins.