"The Universe is small"
"The mind is vast and endless"
These words spill from the tip of my pencil without much thought of my hand.
The grass beneath my legs tickles the skin of my thighs. I adjust my back against the bark of the tree trunk I lean against, looking up at the swaying leaves, and breathing in the sweet aroma of nearby lilacs and freshly cut lawns. I can almost taste my childhood. The days when the smallest events were life altering and the ones that should be earth shattering are tucked into the back of your psyche, conveniently rearing their ugly heads at the most unwelcome moments.
I pinch a blade of grass between my fingers, gently tugging upwards to keep it from ripping and I get that weirdly satisfied feeling as it releases from the soil in its entirety.
I unearthed it.
But it remains whole.
It's dead.
However, unbroken.
I am whole yet dead, unearthed but....
BROKEN.
~~~
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♡LIFE OF ANXIETY♡
PoetryIt consumes you. Devours every ounce of positivity. Until it has nothing but fear to live on. Leaving you to be an empty, emotionless shell. ~~~ I have personally suffered with anxiety for most of my life. I've learned that writing about it helps to...
