If you could hug yourself,
would you do it?
For the pain you feel within,
is understood no better by others
than you.
Have you ever cried tears of blood
and felt that the heart is full of tears,
instead?
And you are still living,
questioning yourself,'is this existence or survival'?
Whatever it is, you don't care.
You see no difference.
You don't actually see at all.
You are blank.
Everything is black.
That black, which has every colour in it.
Will you be able to find a rainbow in it?
Will you be able to find a 'lost you'?
Will you recognize your own avatar?
Will you even try?
When you find 'yourself', what will you do?
Will you hug 'yourself'?

-@poetry_bhaskardhakal

Maybe there is no me?
Maybe me is just we?
Oversimplified, over-exemplified,
Positioned so that I can't see.

Anxiety
Controlling my everyday life
Anxiety
Taking my heart and throwing it against the wall
Anxiety
Wrapping around in my head to consume my thoughts
Anxiety
Crying and screaming against my throat
Anxiety
Crashing and thrashing its way into my body making me shudder
When theres a knock at the door
Anxiety
Lighting fires to my insides
Anxiety
Making my hands shake so someone will notice im unbalanced
Anxiety

Scar
Scratch
Which made you crack
The memory or the action

Could it cause an attack
If we brought it back

Burn
Lick of the fire
Which gets you higher
The smoke around
The one within

Who will win
The memory
Your action
Or your repetition

I call myself a writer yet I'm awful with words and every time I say sorry it's more like an exit wound than an apology. It's difficult to tell you what I'm feeling when I don't know how to speak and I'll go on talking in my broken languages until you realize you will never understand me. Everyone is telling me I need to stop running away from my problems but I've already tried hiding from them and they'll just keep finding me. I keep thinking that maybe if I smile a little more you'll always be here and I want to **** the thing inside you that makes you leave. I have attachment issues because I remember when I was little and not understanding when people told me they'd "be home later" that they never considered anywhere that I was a home. And maybe I don't want to talk about what you did maybe I want to talk about songs and cities and which direction we're going to walk next and if you want to keep the shirt I'm wearing and if touching each other a certain way is okay and how many buttons you leave open on your flannels and how I'm getting home tonight.