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The piercing of the gunshot and the race between my heart and mind is on And just like the pounding of running feet on the pavement, my heart is racing But it is the only thing I can hear
To My Anxiety Disorder: Spotted like a leopardOn National GeographicBut no cameras document me.Hidden in the shadowsI remainBut I feel like I’m in a glass case.Words like brushstrokesPainting a smile on my faceBut we all know the best art dies in
How do u explain to someone you cant hangout . "anxiety bad today" wont come out the mouth Laying in bed , not wanting to get off the couch
what’s that? oh, it was just the cat she was clueless what’s on your wrist? oh, it’s just a scratch i was working outside
The day is like any other day At least it starts like that But then the weight in my stomach drops like a dead weight And I know that this day will be anything but OK.
My heart and mind are at war Shall I say it? Shall I be true? Reason governs my every thought Think it through, Think it through
I thought anxiety controlled me. I was scared to think about it. I started feeling dead inside. I could never breathe anymore. I wasn't me anymore. I thought being 12 was supposed to be fun.
With a heart so big but a brain so confused,I cannot tell if I'm happy?sad?or just Complacent?Do I need to get out there?Do I need to try new things?See the world?Or do I like where I am?
The guy by the popcorn stand proceeds to where I stand here.
Two steps, quick look. Smile. Count two, three. Faded frown. Four, person number five; skip the next pace. Scour the hall; fearful to see his face. Imgine, still. Burning hazel eyes;
Chorus: I'm stressed out A lot of stuff on my mind, I don't know what to do I'm stressed out I just want to be alone, so I'm sitting in my room I'm stressed out
Once there was a man who left and his little girl was sad she cut her wrists and bleed for him as she wished to call him, dad there was an incident that spurred the path the family was split
Eyes blink shut into protective blackness as a steadying breath sputters out at my lips. The blood pulses in my ears a drum beat, a mind-clouding rhythm. I search my mind for words
she flooded herself in a drowning sort of fear that overtook hersoul like bodily possession it took every bit of her until she wasnothingbut the rain
I write so that I might survive another broken night. When I pick up a pen instead of a blade, I can escape into the world where he doesn’t exist, where fear nearly vanishes.
I hate this It’s stupid, pointless But it controls my life It gets in the way Of everything I’m a prisoner In my own mind I can’t try new things I can’t do certain things
Wandering through the lost I search for something found. Turning every corner On a straight path. Never Stopping. Never Living.
I've always thought myself my mother's daughter. Our red-gold-brown hair glitters and waves. Our curves hark back to her grandmother, And it's because of her that I must pluck and shave.