I spend a lot of time in my head,
Sometimes, I can't help it.
My heart feels pumped with lead,
Grey bleeding into the red.
I'm the most wounded soul I've ever met,
Canyons carved where my tears are shed.
Then, in a moment of heartbreak,
I focus on the little things.
My brother's first present under our tree,
Only earned by playing a game, waiting patiently.
The way my mother's words sometimes slip,
I chuckle, I laugh, and whisper a quip.
The way my dad breaks into laughter,
That kind of joy I'm desperately after.
The way my dog crawls on the ground,
He's on a mission, searching for bones around.
The way my cat loafs on my bed,
She looks like a blob with a distinguishable head.
All these little things keep me going strong,
On the days when everything feels wrong.
I try to step out of my head,
Leave my throne, get off my bed,
Fight off the horde of discontentment,
I don't want to be like her... I can't.
I implore you, if like me, you have anxiety,
Please, don't worry about things you cannot see,
Instead, focus on the little things.
Let tomorrow take its time,
Focus on now, not on tonight.
For it's the little things that you'll miss most,
When you're surrounded by melancholy ghosts.
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 12:21 PM UTC
I spend a lot of time in my head,
Sometimes, I can't help it.
My heart feels pumped with lead,
Grey bleeding into the red.
I'm the most wounded soul I've ever met,
Canyons carved where my tears are shed.
Then, in a moment of heartbreak,
I focus on the little things.
My brother's first present under our tree,
Only earned by playing a game, waiting patiently.
The way my mother's words sometimes slip,
I chuckle, I laugh, and whisper a quip.
The way my dad breaks into laughter,
That kind of joy I'm desperately after.
The way my dog crawls on the ground,
He's on a mission, searching for bones around.
The way my cat loafs on my bed,
She looks like a blob with a distinguishable head.
All these little things keep me going strong,
On the days when everything feels wrong.
I try to step out of my head,
Leave my throne, get off my bed,
Fight off the horde of discontentment,
I don't want to be like her... I can't.
I implore you, if like me, you have anxiety,
Please, don't worry about things you cannot see,
Instead, focus on the little things.
Let tomorrow take its time,
Focus on now, not on tonight.
For it's the little things that you'll miss most,
When you're surrounded by melancholy ghosts.
