These poems mean nothing.

Anxiety Attack

My heart is running a hundred mile sprint.

My back is burning like someone lit a fire.

My head is pounding like its trying to escape my skull.

Tears are pouring like a waterfall.

You are standing there watching.

Telling me to toughen up.

You just accidentally raised your voice.

You didn't mean to startle me.

So why am I crying?

Why am I such a pathetic human being?

I couldn't get enough air in my lungs. It was like there wasn't enough space for it.

After I forced myself to stop sobbing, I noticed that I didn't feel real.

I felt like a ghost in my own body. It is an unexplainable feeling. You feel like you are watching yourself from above but you can only see through your own eyes.

I feel dead.

I remember laying on my bed with tears streaming down my face and thinking the world was going to end.

It didn't end.

I spent my night in my bed praying.
Asking God why I was so worthless.

God didn't answer.

Maybe Im his defect.
The blemish on his perfect resume.
The thing he never truly wanted.

Yes thats what I am.

I am just a wimp or a cry baby.
I am a scaredy cat.
I am so flawed that they have to point it out to me.
I am so messed up because this is how I choose to be, because this is what that modern propaganda has told me to believe.
It has lied to me and told me I wasn't flawed.
It gave me sicking facts about what anxiety is.
It told me and told me that the answer isn't to hurt more.
I believed you and dismissed their lies.
I hurt and I hurt and I hurt and it never got better.
I kept thinking if I hurt some more some day I will get some tougher skin.

I never made it to that day.