It tells me to be afraid
To ponder every possiblity of a nightmare in the most beautiful of things
The sun is shining & there's no chance of a thunderstorm
But what if the wind carries a sheet of terror right over your head?
What if it happens out of nowhere & a tornado breaks through every safety barrier you create around yourself?
This thing called anxiety; he carries a weight on my shoulders
Bringing me further & further into this pit of hell I can't even possibly begin to crawl out of
He tells me I'm stupid & worthless & that this world needs less of me
But what if they don't?
But what if they do?
He shoves little post it notes on every inch of my mind demanding me to over think, over worry, & be afraid of every single thing & no matter how hard I try, I can't take them down
The more I attempt to be rid of the mess he makes in my mind; the more he fights back
It's suffocating to live in a small space with someone else telling you that everything you imagine is wrong
It's too crowded in here for the two of us I can't handle this I can't handle you
Post it: You think they like you? You're wrong You think they'll put up with you for much longer? Why would they? They probably don't even like having you around
You're wrong
You're wrong
I know you're wrong, they told me
They reassured me
How could you be right?
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
But what if I am right?
But what if...
Post it: What if we are the problem?
- a poem on anxiety // r.g
