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.