by on July 22, 2022 :: 1 comment

At every turn,
my mind will confront
my negative emotions—
fear, anxiety, jealousy—
who are like a bossy Aunt
who moved in
after she blew her life
and had to live with me,
nowhere else to go.

It won’t do any good
for my mind to stand firm
with crossed arms
and a withering glare,
and say things like:
“Get it together,
Use your head,
Wait to
see what happens,
or try to reason
with her
because she will
weep and scream
and declare
the worst could happen.

“Your dog might tear her leg again.”
“It most likely is cancer.”
“Your company could move overseas.”
“Probably your wife cheated.”

No matter how much your mind
tells her to pipe down,
she never will.

That bossy Aunt digs in, persists,
bound and determined
to make my life
as bad as it can be.

editors note:

Don’t let her in. Pull the shades, change the locks. – mh clay

Comments 1


    This poem takes me back (but with more humor and finesse) to psychology class in which the professor recommended we name our brain-hag (my word). He named his own Aunt Nelly, aka negative Nel. Whatever you name him or her, s/he is an unhelpful liar. (Is it true? Is it helpful? No, no and no!)

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