Despair kept knocking.
Wouldn’t let it in. Must have gotten frustrated, and gave up.
Depression hung on the doorbell, kept peeking through the keyhole.
Waited it out. Must have gotten hot out there, pacing in the sun, so it left.
Anxiety rattled the windows.
Let the dog out. Teeth chased it down the street.
It’s a free-for-all with these negative emotions clamoring for my attention.
I quit watching the news long ago, and maybe it’s time to quit social media, too.
No matter who wins in any election,
the only real winner is Big Money.
While the rest of us fight mental illnesses
dressed in expensive suits
that haunt our doorstep,
seeking our time in the guise of door-knockers,
but those bastards want in,
and, like vampires, only get to cross thresholds if invited.
Maybe a few for five minutes were free in 1776,
but we’ve never been great,
nor brave.

Chani Zwibel is a graduate of Agnes Scott College, a poet, wife and dog-mom who was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but now dwells in Marietta, Georgia. She enjoys writing poetry after nature walks and daydreaming. Read other articles by Chani.