In the silent echoes of my mind, phantoms dance in fear,
Their whispers are of hurt and pain, their voices are all I hear.
Delusions, as they are, not tethered to be real,
Yet they are born of irrational thoughts, a fear I truly feel.
The dread of harm is plausible, a grim and somber hue,
Though its probability is low, in my heart, it's ever true.
Allow me now to paint a tale, a canvas of my fear,
Of anxiety's two faces, through trauma and disorder, clear.
Not what might be, but what has been, is the root of my despair,
A past that's etched in stone, a burden I must bear.
When they say, "It's unlikely, let go of your dread,"
It shatters me, it breaks me, it fills my heart with lead.
For the cause of my anxiety is a ghost from days gone past,
Not a mere projection, but a memory, vast.
Not worry, but remembrance, is the crux of my dismay,
A recollection of a trauma that simply won't decay.
In the company of others, fear grips my heart tight,
A relic of what once was, a constant, dreadful fright.
"If once it was, it could be again," my mind whispers in my ear,
A preparation for a threat, that is always near.
Danger is a perfume, lingering in the air,
A scent that clings to me, a constant cross to bear.
The timeline of my mind is blurred, yesterday is five years hence,
Safety is but a dream, my fear, a sturdy fence.
As vulnerable and scared as the day my peace was stolen,
A flashback's cruel grip, a memory, swollen.
It's as if it's happening anew, yet I'm in a sanctuary's hold,
Despite the physical safety, my mind is still ensnared in old.
I cannot flee my thoughts, I cannot flee the dread,
I cannot flee the memory, it's a melody of the undead.
Always it will linger, a viewer in the night,
Praying for the day when memories no longer ignite.
Their presence consumes my days, makes me a stranger in my skin,
Yearning for the day when comfort finds its way in.
No peace from the stress, the anxiety, the overwhelming fear,
A constant torment, a silent scream only I can hear.
Struggling, unfocused, trapped in my own mind,
Scared and desperate, a solace I can't find.
It's a sorrow so profound, it shakes my very core,
A debilitating dread, a wound forever sore.
