I can't beat the anxiety
the way my joints shake even when I'm asleep
or how my skin itches to be scratched

every time I dig myself a little deeper

these summer days make me smile
and forget
I am happy, for a moment but in a breath
euphoria
gone.

I want it to stop
I want to stand still

tired of making promises
tired of making plans
tired of believing in something that will make this better

It doesn't exist
or if It does - it's too late.

I want you
to tell me it'll be
okay

But you don't know
that things aren't okay

and I don't know
how to tell you
that I'm crying on the floor
rocking back and forth

and I don't know
how to ask
you to tell me
it'll be okay

but I need you
to tell me
it'll be okay

the little monster was quite the talker