Not happening

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Why doesn't anxiety sleep when I do?
Isn't it exhausted after having my mind and heart racing all day replaying scenarios that will never happen?! Doesn't it feel a bit ashamed after the flashbacks it presents me with at the least expected times?! Hadn't I shed enough tears that strangers can tell my distress is preventing me from breathing? From being.
Those scars that haunt me... let them be scars. They are healed, for crying out loud!
Please, I'm begging you mind of mine. Shut up!
No more idealizing with that warmth running down my skin. I can't do that again... there's no escape. My own mind wants me out, and I'm running out of essential weapons while walking on a string hanging between 2 abysms.
There's little excitement, and I can't remember when was the last time I was loved. Truly loved.
Or hugged? Had a normal meal? When was the last time I laughed uncontrollably? Have I ever?
Maybe I'm my own echo; and I'll hunt myself until I get a picture with my lifeless smile. Then I will have done it! I will have destroyed the nothingness I am. Then anxiety shall let me sleep.

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