just_a_title

everything blurrs up,
everything seems dark,
the birds no longer sing,
the suns no longer bright,
the flowers are dead,
and you are inside,
this everyday torture,
some people call life,
but its just anxiety,
feasting on our minds,
its the desire to live,
the desire to fly,
but being too scared to do so,
brings a desire to die.

My hands are shaking,
My arms are spaghetti.
I'm searching for somewhere to hide.
My world is depressingly flaky,
Still, I know I'm not ready
But I wonder what it feels like to die.
What would I see beneath the quillotine?
Will I forever live inside a dream?
Can I escape this bleak reality?
I can't go on living this way!
I'm holding out for better days,
When the sky wont be so grey.

I think to myself, would a be better off that way?
Having to put up with my mind every single day.
These thoughts running circles through my mind,
Why can't this cruel, cruel world just be kind?
I book another appointment
Again, another disapointment
You'll be fine, "Take one a day" the doctor said
But he doesnt know whats going on in my head.