Anxiety... the bane to my existence
At the opportune time opposing my resistance.
Dragging me into an uncontrollable state of stress,
Where I stand idle, where I'm a mess.

All my insecurities resurface, and
I think that I can't handle this,
That I'm not that great after all.
That I'm not desirable in the eyes of all.

So I stand silent in desolation
In a state of isolation.
Where I wonder who would put up,
With this mishap of creation...

That happens to be me.