im not just nervous, it's not something i can just breathe in and breathe out, it's not something i can sleep off. it's a reoccurring state, it's an ocean wave that never stops pulling my body under. it's swimming to shore and finally being able to breathe but ending up choking on the air just to show you how damn ironic everything is.
it's playing your music as loud as it goes but it's still not loud enough to block out the thoughts that just can't stop whirling around your head like a storm. it's a thunderstorm that won't go away, that won't stop rattling your bones.
it's tears falling from your cheeks because you stayed up too late and didn't make sure everyone was okay like usual, because you forgot to say sorry three times, because you looked at someone wrong, because you didn't have it in you to ask how they were and pretend you were great. its a tightness in your chest, it's chains around your heart and a lock right in the middle but you swallowed the key and to this day you still can't find where the hell it went. it's being lost in your mind, pulling your knees to your chest and rocking back and fourth.
it's sitting in the bath curled up in a ball while the hot shower water fades to cold freezing your bones, it's not being able to get out of bed even though you promised yourself you would make your mother coffee today. its letting yourself down because you can't do the smallest, most easy things. it's trying your absolute best and still not feeling like its good enough.
it's crying one day because the sun is shinning but you can't feel it at all, and then not crying for a month afterwards because now you can't feel or see a damn thing besides this weight on your chest. its crumbling on the inside but standing so tall on the outside. it's something you don't understand until you experience it yourself.
it's suffering and fighting a war against yourself that you just can't seem to get a hold on, that you can't seem to ever really win. it's staying up for unworldly hours, waiting for a text.
it's anxiety, and its depression, and its what comes with me. and sometimes i wonder if when i tell you, youll still love me like you do. i wonder if youll think you can handle it, and then a month later you realize you cant baby me all the time. i wonder if youll still want me.
