Anxiety

I sit here hurt, not knowing why.

The scars I have start speaking lies.

I'm stuck in a pit of heated ice.

I'm clam and at peace, but I can't move inside.

Everything is running and I'm just feeling weak.

Time just rushes forward and I stand too still.

My cold anxiety hugs me and tells me to chill.

I hate being told to chill, so I keep on fighting, but I have no thrill.

My depression is a weight holding me down, but my anxiety is freaking me out.

It's a cycle that I go through, I'm tired in the end.

So I end up doing nothing.

I feel like I have no friends.

Everything gets lonely and darker when time ends, then I realize my anxiety has played it's tricks again.

I sit there like a fool, dressed up as a clown.

The time has run, and I've done nothing but stare at the ground.

I haven't moved at all and I will never begin.

Till I can defeat anxiety from letting me win.

-Anxiety