the street is no place for anxiety
but when the man with the dog stares
I can feel the bile rising
crossing the road is no use
too close to the building site
too aware of my bouncing ponytail
staring into the distance
as though I don’t know they watch me

yoga class is my safe place
except the new guy behind
I can see him struggle
through my downward dog
but still his eyes are on me
burning my skin
turning my cheeks red
there is nowhere to hide
in a crop top

time for home
I breathe deeply eight times
anxiety lives on my street
but life is for the living



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