Lame Attempt At Poetry

I feel guilty.  I want to save (control) the situation.  Need to work on not being a martyr.  Writing out the feelings.  Let’s see if this helps?!?

There is the pit

In my stomach

Tingling and nervous energy

That I would not wish on my own worst enemy

Thoughts racing like a fire that burns

Sitting placidly while the insides turn

This anxious seed grows

From a place that seeks to control

And seeks to make her whole

While trying to save my soul

As always more to come.