the world
is promised to me
day in
and day out
and the streaks of bright hope
that I get
along with those
promises
keep me going
give me
something
finally good
to look forward to
and then
it is all
ripped out
from underneath me
the hope,
torn away
like a bandage
leaving a painful
remainder
of why I should not hope
of why I should not trust
empty promises
and yet
it happens
again
and
again
and
again
and
again
and
......
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Thought Spiraling
PoetryFree verse poetry about Anxiety, anxiety attacks, depression, insecurity, dealing with trauma, and dysfunctional relationships.
