Poetry Blogs (Anxiety)

The first time

Is a pin prick

To unstitch

Your skin

To feel yourself

Begin

You search your being

You are it:

Coursing through yourself

The second time

You search inside

A stranger

Behind the corner shop

You find where he begins

Adrenaline!

But come back,

Stinking of rot

Void of thought

To feel what?

What are you searching for?

To begin ag...

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Some time ago
My skin turned wooden
My feet moulded into one
Foot
I slipped
And smudged the painted grid
On the marble floor
Another time I fell
And did not stop
I rolled right off the board
It was not a conscious decision
To spectate rather than participate
But it happened
As it does to many
Who give up on giving
When you undertake solely seeing
You relinquish being
But not feeli...

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my mind is a maze

a dark labyrinth

a closed trap

my thoughts run around like scared mice

they’re squeaking and scampering

and running around in a craze

delusional, one might say

loud and quiet and fast

they’re mad and shy and cry

but only because they’re terrified

they just want to be saved, to be heard

but my mouth doesn’t open

doesn’t say a word

it’s weak a...

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A simple note to explain doesn't seem long enough
To bring on one sheet my final feelings and thoughts

Why am I doing this and what lead me here?
It wasn't just one event and the timing wasn't near.

I'd start when I was younger but who can remember that far back?
Unfortunately I do with every panic and anxiety attack.

You'd probably start to see why by the time I finished 10th grade
But the...

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Irony is a malicious art-form. It’s shocking and sneaky and dripping with deceit.
Is it a karmic curse? Do I deserve to be toyed with like a worn out voodoo doll?
Did I ask for this? All the years of not caring at all.

Putting myself in harms way begging to be struck. 
Dancing around the fire drunk with a lust for self-sabotage.
And escaping fate every single time. 
It seems like a bad-joke ...

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The heart stops,
stomach drops,
and fear attacks
tearing and scraping the insides.
Stepping back, it’s not the right time.
It’s too delicate; my hands are tied.

I stall. I ruminate. I do all the things not to destroy this.
I dread that I will, gravely… to the point of not moving.
This is what it’s like when people become a ghost.
It’s too much to go forward.
So, I turn
in the opposite d...

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Seeing the beautiful sky,

From my dead eyes.

Wondering the beauty in the holy night,

Dark was the only colour which helps me to hide.

Hiding my sadness my sorrows my fear my cries,

Trying my best to keep the face with smile.

My hobbies,my joy, my emotions were becoming day by day a bit fewer,

Now I am just existing in the world, can't even face myself in the mirror.

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It’s a nagging,

A light tug of the sleeve on a cold day,

It reminds you it’s there with

Every quiet evening and cancelled plan

If you close your eyes you can feel

It stronger, engulfing you with its words

And its touch, filling your soul with the

Dirty sludge it flourishes within. 

It follows you while you walk from

Street to street, from room to room,

And taunts you ...

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To learn everyday was what taught to me,
Sinking in an ocean, moving steadily;
It was the ocean of knowledge and believes,
Suddenly the world changed, and power came to cease.

'Look at him, look at her', comparing to the whole world,
Trying my very best, to win in every word.
Becoming a good son, a dear brother and good friend,
But that 'I', was lost in the end.

I became what you want,...

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I was fine in my bubble

just some Moses in my own parting

and yes, you ruined my thoughts

and spun me in antonyms

I always wondered

why I prayed for apocalypse before sleep

and waking up, still whatever,

whatever, was always

outside

whispering planets secretly in my ear

you left me jungles and deserts,

you handed me worlds I never knew

what to do with

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long have I stood

long stood have I gazed

long gazed have I thought

long thought have I suffered

long suffered have I

long have I stood

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She filled her boots when

Panic buying was the vogue her

Bulk brushing rivals aside

Toilet rolls were the

Least of it

Catering packs of SPAM enough

Condensed milk for an army platoon, boxes of candles and

Assorted biscuits filled the loft her

Bathroom plastered with paracetamol cough

Linctus and mouthwash but above all

Valium for honed to a

Tee by loneliness

Mab...

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Is there something wrong with you?

Here we are again, back at square fucking one.

All because poor little cameron can’t seem to control his feelings.

Pathetic.

Do you have a few loose screws?

You literally choose to love people who just don’t care.

And when you cry at night, does it feel good?

Relapse, do you think you should?

Because as far as I can tell,

You’re going t...

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Waves crashing

in and out

up and down

pushing and pulling

A knock on the door

beating louder and louder

waking my fibers

restless and unrelenting

Louder it knocks

heartbeat pulsing

anxiety levels rising

these fears in me won't subside

Breathing in and out

imagining the waves 

the calming waters 

I am one with them

and how they rise aga...

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When people ask me how I'm doing I want to tell them the truth. 

That my depression is the captor I can not escape from. 

That my heart longs for the attention I don't sustain. 

That my ears burn waiting for you to tell me you feel the same. 

I want to tell you that depression has invited anxiety over.

Again. 

Yes... that is the third time this week. Thanks for noticing. 

Tryi...

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Stuttering awake
in the anxious hours
when white noise
no longer lets you sleep
In the mattress springs
a metronome
your percussive heartbeat
one thought then another
one worry trailed by the next
did what was said make sense?
was it understood
will this be good enough
impossible options
improbable odds
suddenly so awake
in the anxious hours
don’t forget
to breathe

Stuttering a...

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