My anxiety is a lonely friend.
She is possessive.
And like a good friend,
I wanted to listen to her.
I wanted to try and understand
why she feels what she feels,
why she does the things she do.
And I wanted her to know that
even if the world was against her,
I would be by her side.
Little did I know,
that by embracing her,
I have sentenced myself into
a lifetime prison.
You came along, my love,
and anxiety became envious.
Through the happy moments,
she would slip through
and she would tell me
that you don't love me at all.
She tells me,
I am nothing but an after thought.
That, everything you say is a lie.
And I tried to block her out.
Tried to count all the reasons
why you said you loved me,
and why I know I love you.
But it only made her more vicious.
Her voice grew so much louder.
So much more persistent.
So poisonous and elusive.
And so utterly convincing,
when she tells me that you only love me
when the world's buzz dies down
and you lay in your bed to call me at dawn,
because you only remember me
when you have nothing else to distract yourself with.
She whispers in my ears.
You only love me when you need me.
Whenever I caved and crumbled
she would pick up the little pieces
so I could never put myself back together.
Irony laughed at my face when it dawned on me
how I wanted this friend to survive with me,
but she wanted nothing but death for the both of us.
I cannot tell you how hard I'm fighting to stay afloat,
to not drown with her,
but she has her shackles around my ankles,
and I do not know how to swim.
Once in a while, through the tides,
I would slip back into consciousness
and I would hear your voice
telling me to hold on,
that, no matter what, you love me.
And for a moment, I would believe what you say.
until anxiety yanks the chains
and she starts describing what your love is
through chaos rimmed glasses.
And through the depth and muck,
I'd see your love. I'd see it glow bright.
But she tells me to take a closer look
and after a while I start to see what she sees.
I see your love, distorted and painted in black,
and in my pain, I slip back into her arms,
and we sink a little further down.
I wish I could tell you that I wrote this
and lived to see another day,
but I am stuck down here.
My anxiety is lonely
and she needs me
so she keeps me in her cage.