Thin Red String

Keeps me locked to them

The paranoid, worrisome anxiety

Who jitters my body and makes me shake with every thought, making it a hassle to go through a day.

Adding noises into my ears, ones that

I swear to fucking god were never there before.

On the other side is the gloomy and sadden depression.

Who goes through my mind, making it a foggy and bleak mess.

Not letting me be able to think or see clearly.

Bring a curse upon me to hate my body and bring new scars upon the old ones.

The thin red string keeps them together and me held closely, almost like an unwanted comfort and not letting me break free.

I swear this red string will be the death of me.

This poem is about: 
Me

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