Anxiety.
It takes control of me.
I must do this
and if I miss
a single step
I bet
it will end
with me trying to mend
all that is broken.
I’m left hoping
in my bed
with my head
at forty-five degrees.
Can’t you see
my mind tortures me?
Turn it three times
and you’ll find
my poems must rhyme.
If things don't go right
my mind will fight.
I’m left shaking
and making
a bigger mess
of all the stress.
I must confess
It’s eating away.
It’s time I say
the piano sounds
can no longer drown
out all the thoughts
that my mind has bought.
They eat away
all day.
On the outside I say “okay”.
On the inside,
I’m dying.
-
Author:
MaxWritesPoems (
Offline) - Published: December 23rd, 2016 13:50
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
Offline)
Comments1
Well written poem. I get what you mean. I have anxiety too. Just try to keep writing and expressing yourself and you'll find it helps other people as well. Thanks for sharing!
Thank you x I will continue to do so
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