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The following poem is about how anxiety makes me think and feel sometimes. It becomes a constant thought that every little smile or laugh that you aren't a part of is about you. What you just said or did is a reason to make fun of you, always. Paranoia can be all consuming.
The sneaky glances
Hushed laughs and
I know your words are about me
My mind screams like a siren
Why cant any of you face me
And let your words be more
More than little whispers
More than inside jokes at my expense
Let them sting my ears
Let then put worms of doubt in my dirt
Let them claim what little is left of me
For once I have fallen I will not arise
But become food to those worms
The worms you planted
The worms you scattered inside me