Think I'm bulletproof
A thick skin and paper heart
But, I'm the reverse

I daydream about seeing your bedhead

The thing I hate the most about anxiety
Is its ability to turn anything into a weapon
Haunted house attraction. Hall of mirrors.
Warping what you see into something else
That curious fear in being aware of the fact
What's in front of you is not real
But looking on anyway

You walk like a doomsday bunker grew feet
Climbed into your clothes like a hazmat suit
Deciding to brave that scary thing called outside

You talk like a river shapes rock
Repeating the same set of words
Until they feel smooth in the mouth

You write like your ink is honey
Savored by those few you share it with
Because they don't care where it comes from

Happiness is a hummingbird we define our value by the ability to hold onto
Swallowed whole, stored in between the bars of your rib cage
You hold happiness like "Watch me fly"
But no amount of sugar water words can keep it down
It was never yours to take

but eventually, all the metaphors fall apart
and come to nothing
like paper dissolving in water
fanciful words dissolving with it
and without romanticized phrases
and rose-tinted writings
there is only unembellished truth

Waking up to a heavy chest
My body begging me to sleep again
And my anxiety begins the second I realize I'm alive
I'm trying to learn to function
With all of this negative energy inside me
I know it'll pass and
I know it'll get better
But right now it hurts
I feel unloved
Unloveable
I feel lost inside myself
A place I can't stay too long
Before I lose my mind
I can tell myself I'm worth it and
That my worth isn't defined by others
And it works for a bit
Until something else comes up and
My heart loses its energy
And I either feel like giving up
Or ready to fight everyone