I have a friend.
Some people might say we're inseparable.
I'd beg to differ.

She's been around a lot, recently.
With me through the day.
She stays with me until my eyes fall shut.
And she'll greet me with the morning sun.

But we've never had a tendency of getting along.
In school, she mocks me.
When I speak in class, she whispers to my peers, pointing out my every flaw.

I swear, she has done her best to erase the little beauty I have left to see in myself.
She tells me how stupid I am all the time.
Doesn't even let me sleep through the night without helping me relive repressed memories.

But it's down to the nitty gritty.
She's all I have.
She's the only one that has stuck by my side in these last couple months of desperation.

But she hates me.
She hates me and I hate her.
The days grow longer,
The nights relentless.
I can't take much more of her.

I have a friend,
Who's not really a friend.
We're more like enemies.
And that's fine by me.

I have a 'friend', and her name is anxiety.