The day is coming to an end,
My accomplishments are close to none
I feel the upcoming dread,
Before the sun sets, the torture has begun.
I'm once again met by comforters, as they fill me with nothing but anxiety. My bed feels like chains tying me to the depths of procrastination. An endless cycle, a continuous challenge I must overcome every time I open my eyes to the sound of my alarm.
I have anxiety pulsing through every vein in my body. I lie to myself time and time again, I tell her it's just one more day I must survive. Days, weeks, its been a month.
"When does the torment end?" she asks me. "Tomorrow" I tell her.
And it repeats.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Torture.
PoésieCollection of poems and pieces written about daily struggles and tackling big world problems from the eyes of a teenager. Warning: Some chapters might be triggering. Triggers include: Suicide Eating disorder Self harm
