The curse of fall is embodied in the wiping wind..

my hair flapping about frizzily in the October air.

My jacket provides warmth within its tufts of fluff

and my shoes carry my feet.. seeking moisture that

sweat no longer provides.

My hands cry out for warmth as I bury them in my pockets..
the lines and indentations are extenuated by lack of things soft.

my glasses fog up with steam as my nose touches the lip of the coffee cup.

It's better to take the dirt road

rather than the highway to perfection.

Someone just said something about me,
It’s starting to drive me crazy,
Oh please don’t make it start again,
This isn’t a feeling that can be supported by any men,

My thoughts are beginning to race,
At much too fast of a pace,
I keep trying to make it stop,
I can already feel myself drop,

It’s called anxiety,
Oh there goes gravity,
Here comes insanity,
And everyone’s pity,

I’m starting to lose control,
I can’t feel myself as a whole,
I need help,
I need help,

Here we go again,
I can’t wait for,
The moment when,
My head stops its own war,

It’s called anxiety,
It’s not ending anytime now,
It’s being juged in our society,
It’s not something we should allow,

It’s called anxiety,
Oh there goes gravity,
Here comes insanity,
And everyone’s pity

My muscles feel heavy, even though they're light.
My breathing feels restricted.. so stringent, cold and tight.
She says "I'm okay".. tears streaming down her burning cheeks..

bad posture
              not good enough
                                aching muscles.
Wouldn't everything just be easier if I was
t
a
l
l
e
r,
prettier..
skinnier?

I can write lists of things to do.. but I won't do them.
Raging thoughts.
Wayward feelings
and THE RUSH OF SOMETHING I DON'T EVEN KNOW THE NAME OF.
Welcome to this world, I didn't know what the HELL I was getting myself into.
Thinking about what other people think way too much.. and then trying not to.
it doesn't work and I try not to.
BUT I STILL DO.