Jesus Showed Up

My anxiety sits in a corner.

Marveled at how I switch between multiple personalities.

She eavesdrops on my dialogue with depression.

Nonetheless, I am leaving suicide in my bedroom.

She is of many pessimistic words.

My reality tells me to lock my psychosis in the wardrobe.

But it slipped my mind when dementia whispered something.

My eating disorders hang as a wallpaper on the wall as I walk into of the kitchen.

While the floor beneath me sparkles with reflections of OCD.

I missed a call from trauma earlier whilst in therapy with healing.

And on my way back home paedophilia waved at me.

I didn’t wave back because she is a stranger.

Now it is late.

I’m cooking bipolar for dinner.

And I have to walk my substance abuse to the door because my paranoia is on her way back home.

A long-lost friend came knocking at the door.

As He entered, anxiety and depression bowed at His feet.

Phobia crumbled to make a way for faith.

Every mental distress fled in his great and awesome presence.

Turmoils began to drown in the same waters He told me to walk on.

Jesus silenced every raging voice in my head.

He said “Peace. Be still.”