Anxiety
Is drowning me
My thoughts run ten rivers
before I speak
And even then
my voice sounds bleak

After each sentence
immediate remorse
I shouldn't have said that,
not like that, ofcourse

My palms feel sweaty
My heart beats loud
Im probably too quiet,
too modest,
too proud

I think all your thoughts for you, the ones about me,
Theyre always mean phrases
Excruciatingly
Berating

I need to flee

I wont look you in the eye
Not for too long anyway
My soul is something private
Shallow depths i
cannot give away

I dont like you.
Because youre a human.

I dont like me.
Because im me.

I am never free

To be human too,
The same as you
To just be able to breathe
Thats all i need..

But The iron shackles
keep mocking me
I am chained to
Social Anxiety

"Oversensitive, dramatic,
its nothing, get over it"

Why do I hate
Do I need to berate

Do I always plunge the knife that deep?

Tear at my insides like im dying of hunger and trying to feed myself with what little soul i am told i have left but i find myself an empty wasteland and it *****. It really does

"Love yourself"

How do you love yourself when all youve ever been allowed to believe is your pitiful little girl in the corner narrative
The i wish you werent born. Useless.
A burden.
If smiling was a sin.

The numbness from within
Is after all Only redemption

"Change"

You broke me and now you expect me to heal myself so you dont have to look at the pieces and feel bad.

Well Feel bad.

*******.

I lost myself
before i even had the chance to find out exactly who that is
Who it was
Who it never will be again

Ive changed
Ive misevolved,
degenerated backwards into myself
Into something i never wanted to be
A face i hate to see
But i see it every morning in the bathroom mirror
and the tears
feel like a circus parade
running over the bleak facade of a masquerade
and i cant take off the mask,

Because i dont want to know what lies underneath.

Im terrified.

Because light only seems to shine in darkness,
because shadows only exist in the  day,
because bad things happen wether you pray...
or not,
because people are ignorant and so are you
and so am i
typing this on a small white screen while the world passes me by

I know
What i know
But ill never know why
We consume ourselves and cry
You're regarded higher when your ****** features are aesthetically pleasing
The mainstream teasing
Beauty is a needle and that brand new face cream.
Wax and scream.

Beauty is pain.
Pain is ugly.
Ugly is beauty.

This world is a messed up place.
Thats why.
To me beauty is the will to try

lately i've been feeling ugly though
But my human nature drives me to fear the day
I die.

We always want. Never satisfied.
Death is nothingness.

What if

For once in my life

I want

Nothing