I'm Only Human

Anxiety

PLEASE NOTE: This poem contains suicidal/self-harm/triggering content. Read at your own risk

  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

I wish there was an eraser for life.

Something to erase all of this strife.

All these mistakes, cutting me like a knife.

I may as well bow down to the reaper's scythe.

I cannot change the things that I said.

The things that fill me with absolute dread.

Constant wrongs running through my head.

So many, I just wish I were dead.

These thoughts never stop, they won't leave me alone.

I feel like they're cutting me down to the bone.

Reminiscing the rhyme of stick and stone.

All these mistakes, I wish I could atone.

I didn't mean what I said, I want to take it back.

Oh god, I'm having a panic attack.

Forced to face everything that I lack.

Life has just given me a very hard smack.

I see them laughing, I see them smile.

I wish I could do that for a while.

Instead I stare down at the white bathroom tile.

Being splattered with red, because that's my style.

Tears streaming down my face, me screaming out why.

That feeling of only wanting to die.

In reality, that feeling is a lie.

But I can't say that, my lips are tied.

I look in the mirror, faults all I see.

Everything that I will never be.

My doubts surrounding me like a sea.

...Is this really me?

You can't fix what's already broken.

The feeling in me has once again awoken.

The only friend I have has already spoken.

I can't help but listen, my opinion a useless token.

Anxiety is the one holding the scythe.

Anxiety causes endless strife.

Anxiety cuts me like a knife.

Anxiety will be the end of my life.