He says that I'm enough, that I'm cute, that he likes me just the way I am, but I'm sure that's not true.

I say I want to lose weight, that it's better for my health and this isn't the body I wanted for myself. He says I'm beautiful just the way I am, but I don't remember asking if I was ugly.

I'm sure he means the best, but what's wrong with not feel comfortable in your own skin? I didn't always look this way so why start now?

Chubby is cute, but not for everyone; at least not for me.

Spring, summer, fall, and winter, here I walk to work.
I sell the pizza, the pay is bad, without a single perk.
I need to pay for college books, the fees leave a shiver.
It's then I think and wonder if, I'm better off in the river.

When is it enough?
How far will it take me?
Will it continue to get me through high school
While my sister is recovering in the hospital while pills are still scattered on the counter?
Will it be by my side as a lay in bed, taking another hit, staring blankly at my ceiling, trying to forget.
Can it get me through college while my dad loses his legs?
Can it show me the way, when debt collectors are calling me by name?
When is it time for me to falter, when is it time for me to fall over?

Anxiety hits me like a brick to the face.
I see it coming, and I try to get out of the way of it, but I'm too frozen in fear to actually avoid it. Other times, I can't see it coming, but the idea of being hit with a brick to the face is still just as
shocking, constantly on my mind, and just as lethal. Either way, the impact comes on strong and sometimes without warning, leaving me dazed and scared, wondering when the next one will come at me.

Anxiety sometimes feels like tons of bricks sitting on my chest. No matter how much I plea and cry, the soffocating feeling won't go away.
Anxiety often leaves my finger tips numb and my vision blurred.
Anxiety makes my head spin and my breath short. Sometimes, the worst part is losing control. It leaves me a stranger to my own body.

Sometimes, all I can do is pick those bricks up, and build a wall. Hopefully then, I won't get hurt anymore. Maybe then, others won't see me in my most vulnerable of ways. This is all I can do for myself. Every time I get hit with a brick to the face.