Anxiety is a thing that will rob your lungs,
Of your breath of life.
It's a thing that has no heart and,
No compassion for worldly things,
Such as:
Age,
Place,
Or time.
Anxiety is difficult.
One second you may be sitting there fine,
With not a worry in the world...
And then your heart stops.
And proceeds to go a mile a minute,
Without any concent from you.
It takes over and controls you,
Pulls you inside,
Until you are nothing more,
Than a weak membrane,
Within your new surrogate mother.
Anxiety.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Anxiety is a thing that will rob your lungs,
Of your breath of life.
It's a thing that has no heart and,
No compassion for worldly things,
Such as:
Age,
Place,
Or time.
Anxiety is difficult.
One second you may be sitting there fine,
With not a worry in the world...
And then your heart stops.
And proceeds to go a mile a minute,
Without any concent from you.
It takes over and controls you,
Pulls you inside,
Until you are nothing more,
Than a weak membrane,
Within your new surrogate mother.
Anxiety.
