Holes in my head- a Poem about anxiety

My mind is timed down a dark receding line of wonder and "Can I get it right?"s.

oh why do I think such complicated thoughts, I'm on the brink of smashing a window.

My tongue gets twisted every time I speak and try to move my train of thought down the right track, 

but the station is blurred so I don't know how to interact, with the soil beneath my feet and the air

between cracks in my teeth. The holes in my head are sensitive to every short breath and are

juxtaposed to the beams of starlight I once felt ignited in my bones. But my bones are frail,

leaving a reflective trail of words I once thought to say. Damn my pulse has raised, I'm sweating

for days and my knees are grazed from the concrete I've fallen off my skateboard onto. 

But the pain fades as I build up a wall of paracetamol, laced with amnesia so I cannot feel at all.

but I wished I'd never felt or fell off at all. Then I'd be a better person.