Let me indulge you,
let me cater
to your every whim.
What is it inside of me
that can satisfy
your every need?
All I've got is the
"I'm only one person"
blues to sing to you.
That's when I know
Anxiety. . .
She's got me
by the neck again,
pulling me offstage
with a shepherds crook.
Then she hovers above me
with a rain cloud
of self mis-judgement.
Imagine me, with a soggy,
wet lost puppy look on my face.
No one expects me
to cater to their every whim,
or satisfy their every need.
They only expect me to be.
