I am tired of being paranoid to stay alive
The paranoia is like a cell
My thoughts buzz like a hive
I am trapped in my own hell
Depression is the bolt on the door
Nightmares are the guard
Beating me until I am crying on the floor
Until my soul is scarred
My anxiety is the shackles on my wrists
Cutting into my skin
Why does it hurt to exist
But there are sprinkles of hope within
My will struggles to prevail
I keep trying to make progress
Eventually the pain will look small in scale
Eventually there will be happiness in excess