anxIous

solitude isn’t settling well with me and I must say this is a first. never has my heart met silence with such discomfort. it pulls and pushes against the cage in agitation like an animal before a disaster. something is wrong but I don’t understand the language. the only time I get a sense of the anguish is in the darkest hour when the world is the most quiet and I can hear the panic clawing its way out of my throat. between gasping breaths and bloody teeth I’m forced to concession- I can’t keep swallowing this fear forever.

Run On

I haven’t had an anxiety attack in a while but this one hit so hard so fast, it was as if every problem hit me at once, be it from my future, present, or past and I can’t breathe right, I don’t know if I want to, I think I’m choking on my tears and I refuse to cry dammit but I couldn’t hold back the sob that rattled my bones and echoed in my ears I feel that need to escape escape escape to somewhere far from this shore, I thought I had already gone far enough but this distance isn’t doing it for me anymore; I long to leave in the gray hour while both the moon and sun are gone and the stars hidden in the transition to morning and I’d pack up my things and go to another country, my leave would leave no one in mourning and I could live in a new city with a new start and a new me although I tried it once already but maybe this time I could do better… maybe… all I know is the walls are closing in my demons crawling under my skin and the night won’t bring sleep and all I know is I’m not there but I’m not here I can’t live but I can’t die I’m lost and drifting amidst this chaos in my mind and I would kill to have someone hold me tight just for tonight just til mornings’ light cause I’m losing this fight I’m losing this fight.

Forget to Remember

I’m standing in the shower letting the fire wash over me in attempts to burn away this fog of sorrow residing in my chest. I feel the pneumonia settling in and it gets harder to breathe with each pitiful attempt of my lungs. So I start to pray to any god to make it all stop, but in the end ask for help to take just a few more breaths. And I think that’s a good prayer because it’s broken and honest. Now this fire’s too hot and I find my head resting against the cool tiled wall in attempts to shock me back into reality.

He’s good for you.

Your dad is not gone.

Work harder.

I chant feverishly to myself, hoping if I say them enough times I can get lost in these words and forget their meaning. But it’s as hard to forget what’s real as it is easy to remember what isn’t.