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Anxiety

Feeling It

By Jolyssa EchevarriaPublished 5 years ago 1 min read
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Poetry v72

My mind is their playground

These voices get louder when it gets quieter.

They’re the reason I wake up drenched

The reason I shake, the reason i can’t explain because it makes no sense.

I stare at the ceiling

I cry on the edge of my bed.

I look up to god but I'm left with the voices instead. The devil sold me lies and I chose to believe what he said.

These attacks are deadly

They cause me to worry

I breathe barely

The pastor said pray

The doc prescribed me meds

I’m lost in a world and I don’t know what to say

They trapped me

It’s anxiety that’s made me this way

sad poetry
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