In The Dark

Anxiety

My lungs constrict, they won't let me breathe.

The crushing weight is suffocating me.

My Hands shake and tears build.

A hole in my heart is left unfilled.

I turn to run, but my feet are stuck.

As I fall to the floor, I know there's no such thing as luck.

People gather as I gasp for air.

It only gets worse the more they stare.

I sob, feeling alone.

They will never really know.

I push myself to my feet.

And rush out of the door before they can follow me.

I run to a room and lock myself in.

Goosebumps rise on my skin.

I wipe my tears and silently pray.

That one day my anxiety will go away.

I pull my knees up to my chest.

And try to take a deep breath.

My lungs stop moving, I can't breathe.

I feel like I'm dying, please help me.

But I can't cry or scream out loud.

Every noise is drowned out.

I can't jog and I can't yell.

It's as if I'm stuck in hell.

Finally my lungs constrict.

They finally let some air in.

I sit and wait.

I know I will meet my fate.

But nothing comes because now I'm okay.

Though I know it won't stay that way.

I cry again because I'm a freak.

Who would want to be friends with me?

I can't do normal things.

Anxiety pulls my strings.

I'm a puppet for anxiety.

I'm limited when it comes to variety.

I can run but never hide.

It always finds me at the worst times.

I'm sorry I don't have control.

It's buried too deep inside my soul.

I've been branded with it since age nine.

I still remember the first time.

Sitting in class reading a book.

The teacher called my name and all eyes looked.

The stares turned something inside.

I ran to the bathroom to hide and cry.

That was my first anxiety attack.

Now it diseases me, it came back.

It's worse than ever before.

But no one cares anymore.

With each breath that I can't take.

Feel like I'm dying, a feeling I can't shake.

I try to run but it's impossible.

I'm the only one to hold responsible.

No one knows that I have them anymore.

They'd just try to send me out the door.

To a doctor where they give me pills.

That makes me want to die and adds a chill.

They hold you down and say it's all in your head.

You suffer when they try to stop you from being dead.

You have one attack after the other.

It's a cycle that you constantly suffer.

I can't take it anymore, I know it's in my mind.

But it doesn't stop the fact that I want to die.

I'd do anything to give my anxiety away.

But it will always follow me around everyday.