The problem with anxiety
Oh please don't talk to me
Please, stranger
Leave me be!

A party?
No thanks, I think I'll pass
I'm the last person you would want to ask
No, I'm not giving you sass
Please stop being such an ***

Rachel is the name my mom gave me
Rachel is someone sweet
Rachel is a secret keeper
Rachel is a little momma
Bur rachel has her dark secrets
Rachel is sometimes angry
Rachel is sometimes cranky
Rachel is sometimes depressed
Rachel is also sometimes only
But rachel as siblings who care for her
An older brother is happy for her happiness
Sisters who can tell she as been crying
A mother who loves her so
A father who also loves her
Mother giving her confidence
Mother loves her for the littlest things
This girl is me
Rachel is the name i will carry to the grave

I am a raincoat on your way home, sheltering you from the storm. When its thundering and lightening my only wish was the electricity spreading through every single one of my veins to keep you warm. I could write and write but it's never electric enough to keep you sane. And every single sympathetic step towards the end, towards bathtub I wish I was the one who took the pain. I wish I was a toaster accompanying your stares towards the water and I'd slaughter all the distressing thoughts that make your mind wonder.
But the music in my head made it stop. Everything stopped and it was calmed at suicide. But how do you run and hide?
And how do you explain your neck slipping like butter?
The rope sending you into a suffocating slumber.
Do you say it was an accident?
Do you say it was the thunder? That sent you into a frenzy in which you'd never recover.
Now tape yourself together little wind up toy, just for a little while.
Because even rain or shine if someone asks you how you're doing, you always lie and smile.

A storm in the ocean,
A storm in the heart,
Wind and Rain,
Hurt and tears,
All I see was a rise of a wave,
All you here the swish of the sea,
Scared of what comes ahead,
To the future or past,
For there is only me, myself and I in this ocean of tears,
I want this to end, I want to leave..
Forget how it makes me feel,
I go through this, and then think of you,
Standing there at the end,
Waiting, to hold me,
I hope someday you will,
Someday you will love me.

People ask...
Why?
Why are unknown?
Why are you hidden?

My only answer
Is
Im hiding for the ones
Who cant be hidden
Im hiding for the ones
That love has bitten
Im hiding for the ones
Whos been through it all
Im hiding for the ones
Who are struggling along.

although you were as cold as ice
your touch lit like a flame
i would feel my veins ignite
i would feel my bones glitter and shine
and even though you were so cold
my god, every touch was nothing less of bold

It cut upon itself and  paper bled ink,
Gagged raw, seeping slowly out.

It was a choice that was made, no longer
Wanting to be what was issued pure white.

Needing to be used, to feel a purpose
So It wept words, that flowed down.

Can something torn ever be what it was,
It wasn't meant to be flawless .

It was no longer pure, but it  bled word,
And it read, **authentic piece of ink.