My thoughts, my fears, my insecurites:

they begin to overflow.

Tears are streaming down my face.

Fear is crawling up my skin.

Insecurites begin to cover my face.

Who am i?

I used to have a name.

A couple months ago, my body was my home.

Now, I'm afraid I don't belong.

All I can think about is running away.

Little did I know, it all had a name.

One word.

Thouands of victims.

But it is a part of who I am.

Anxiety.

I have anxiety.

As the days go on,

my heart slows down,

my hands stop shaking,

my body stops sweating.

I can breath.

My ideas, my thoughts, my words finally have a home.

My mind is my own.