Calm, chill, charming,
That is what people see.
I present a facade of confidence.
Little do they know,
My insides are burning.
Most do not know of the fear,
The fear of the future.
I am young and ready,
But I am scared and anxious.
Will I have a stable job?
What will I do?
Where will I go?
Will I live comfortably?
Will I be able to support my family?
Will I just be another failure?
These questions in me burn, scald, and eat.
My stomach is dissolving in a pool of acidic anxiety.
It will move to my other organs, still hungry.
It will eventually eat away at my bones,
Leaving an empty skin.
Will I be able to support myself?
This anxiety is not me.
This anxiety is evil.
Yet, this anxiety is a part of me.
It will never leave.
I will always worry,
Worry myslef into oblivion.
This mask cannot fail.
It must not fail.
If my true self were released,
I don't know what would happen.
Another thing to fear.
This mask is not a shield against the world,
It is a shield against myself.
It is a way to trap and lock the dread away.
Then, I may live less constrained.
But this prison box I will carry,
From here to the mortuary.