Trigger Warning: mentions of anxiety
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My anxiety makes me crumble.
Like cookie dough when you've added too much flour.
Like a building that just been hit down the middle.
Like a sand castle being crashed by the waves.
Like the world is in my hands, I have one minute to do something, anything, before it turns to dust.
But I freeze, I freeze for a whole minute and I watch it disintegrate before my eyes.
The world was on me.
And it was so so fucking easy.
Yet I still couldn't.
A rock is lodged in my stomach.
I pull it away just to watch it bleed out.
Every little thing becomes ginormous around me.
A flake of snow seen from the eyes of an impossibly small particle.
I try to be rational, but my own mind is overflown with the very being of irrational.
And it's no big deal, but it is.
It's such a big fucking deal.
But it's nothing.
But it's something.
But it's everything.
And I crumble.
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YOU ARE READING
Finding Myself I ▽
Poetry"She painted her soul with words and displayed the pain for all to observe." Where a girl is learning how to love herself and the complicated life she lives.
