Let it die,
Stop with the sunlight,
The water,
The care,
It's a hopeless case.
Once the rose is cut,
All it can do is wither.
It's too late to save it,
Just let it die.

Shallow breaths,
tight chest,
blurry vision,
No rest.
*******
by my thoughts:
make it stop...
‘give it all you’ve got.’
Head spinning,
hope dwindling.
Skin burning,
bones chilling.
Drowning in air
a sinking ship;
dying of thirst,
and I don’t get a drip.
Surrounded by an ocean
and I can’t see
anything.
I can’t hear
for the life of me.
This feeling
I swear
is killing 
me.
Whispering:
“give in
don’t get up
stay home
you’re not enough.
Even if there’s nothing wrong:
walk out the door
and harm
will come”
This ubiquitous feeling
draping
over me,
enveloping
everything,
wet,
and weighted...
bet you’ve never hated
someone so much
you’d stab them in the chest
and without a moments rest
grab them at the throat
so tight they can’t whisper a note
and leave them wondering
if they’ve even given their best
after their whole self feels negated.

**This hate,  
this punishment 
or something,
draped
over me
so viciously
is known as:
Anxiety.