Your body is like a road I traveled along when I was a child
Bumpy and all of the twists and turns drive me wild
Your eyes are dark blue like the sky I could not look away from when I was young
Full of stars and I cannot wait to stare into them and find constellations
Your voice is like the wind blowing through the highway fields in Illinois in the midst of spring
So swift and soft, yet could catch the attention of any person perusing through
Your hands are like gravel I fell into when I was learning to ride a bike
Rugged and painful to the touch however I cannot stop touching and yearning for more
Your smile is blinding just like the sun's reflection over Lake Michigan in the summertime
It has left everyone who viewed it enamored by its beauty and coming back for more every possible opportunity
Your demeanor reminds me of my childhood and all of the love I wanted to feel when I was young
Rare and sublime and everlasting

One time I wrote a poem about you and it went viral
Now 6,000 people know you treated me like I was garbage
Now 6,000 people know how you hurt me without using your hands
Now 6,000 people are aware that you damaged my mental health more than anyone else
Now 6,000 people know that you made me cry every single day
Now 6,000 people felt my pain through my words
Now 6,000 people get to know that you did not lay a hand on me but still left me abused and scarred

One time I wrote a poem about you and it was so well received
Now 6,000 people support my every day struggle to stay strong
Now 6,000 people have shown love to me even though they do not even know my last name
Now 6,000 people are there for me in ways you never were
Now 6,000 people are able to talk about how they felt the way I felt and never want to feel those aches again
Now 6,000 people may have the courage to battle a villain like you
Now 6,000 people may be able to stand up to severe abuse like I finally was able to

My hands feel cold like ice cubes
They are shaking and awkward
My hands are aching for contact
They are yearning for the touch of your hands
My hands are confused because they don't know what to do when they aren't intertwined with yours
They are incoherent because they now only know what it feels like to hold on to a bottle of liquor

Anxiety is not cute, and it is not fun
Anxiety is not something to make light of and to pretend you have for giggles
Anxiety is suffering
Anxiety is waking up at 3 in the morning because I am so sick to my stomach that it wakes me up for an hour
Anxiety is my skin breaking out in hives so severe that I break the skin and bruise and bleed because I am scratching so **** hard
Anxiety is when I try to sleep at midnight but am still awake at 5:30 in the morning and I still try to count down to the second exactly how much sleep I will get tonight
Anxiety is when I cannot bring myself to eat even though it has been 31 hours since my last meal
Anxiety is waking up in the middle of slumber because I thought of what I should have said in an argument four days prior
Anxiety is how it is noon and I cannot bring myself to get out of bed and make my day real
Anxiety is how I have made myself feel like I am going insane and I feel like my breaths are short and nothing feels right
Anxiety is how things do not go the exact way I planned them to and I sit there contemplating crying for the whole day
Anxiety is how I feel myself acting like I am crazy and I feel that I am not me and yet I cannot change the way I react
Stop trying to make anxiety cute
It is not romantic
It is not adorable
It is not fun
Anxiety is what prevents me from living a normal life
Anxiety is what drives me out of my mind