Anxiety

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Who knew - that the harsh words that we've condemned - were true? We stop you from asking why the sky is blue, avoid you from getting rescue. Your thoughts are disguised as monsters in the making - that noise you hear in the background is always us screaming, pleeing for you to hear us. We ripped of your wings from day one, disintegrating the replaying memories of what you should have been. You were born as a disablement, can't even begin  to spot the flock of birds up above the sky so high.

You shudder in your school paths hall, avoiding close-calls with student brawls - zipping your mouth shut - sitting on your butt, not making a move. A sound. You made anxiety so proud.

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