I never have to trim my nails 
because of the anxiety that
has made itself at home
in the pit of my stomach.

While tapping my feet,
I watch the clock slowly tick
and the breath in my lungs feels
thick and coated with doubt.

But soon, 
my time will come
and my eager feet
will carry me to a place where
hope fills my lungs 
and i'll breathe with ease.

Because eventually, 
everything is going
to work itself out.

Everything will always be okay in the end,
If you allow it to be.