This anxiety,
is making me anxious.
Feeding itself,
until it becomes dangerous.
It’s PTSD,
of some varying degree.
Each startup and failure,
taking its toll on me.
The inability to remember,
the pain and the fear.
Forgetting the scars,
that should be so clear.
The voice in your head,
reassuring you.
Saying this time will be different,
when you know it’s not true.
Louder and louder,
till it starts to scream.
Your anxiety grows,
and splits at the seam.
Then you give in,
letting go at last.
The voice takes control,
and repeats the past.
Another, another!!
It screams in a growl.
More, more!!
A predator on the prowl.
Then it is gone,
and you’re just floating there.
Trying to make sense of things,
trying to be aware.
Then it all crashes down,
and you’re drowning in hate.
You’re full of self loathing,
and memories that exacerbate.
Now the long road ahead,
seems to have no end.
Your chest hurts so bad,
and the tremors set in.
You can’t eat or sleep,
so you traumatize your brain.
You’re scared you might die,
but you’re more scared of the pain.
Four days and you’re better,
but the memories end.
Then that tiny voice,
starts to whisper again.
Over and over,
rinse and repeat.
Slowly killing yourself,
for a small fix of heat.
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
This anxiety,
is making me anxious.
Feeding itself,
until it becomes dangerous.
It’s PTSD,
of some varying degree.
Each startup and failure,
taking its toll on me.
The inability to remember,
the pain and the fear.
Forgetting the scars,
that should be so clear.
The voice in your head,
reassuring you.
Saying this time will be different,
when you know it’s not true.
Louder and louder,
till it starts to scream.
Your anxiety grows,
and splits at the seam.
Then you give in,
letting go at last.
The voice takes control,
and repeats the past.
Another, another!!
It screams in a growl.
More, more!!
A predator on the prowl.
Then it is gone,
and you’re just floating there.
Trying to make sense of things,
trying to be aware.
Then it all crashes down,
and you’re drowning in hate.
You’re full of self loathing,
and memories that exacerbate.
Now the long road ahead,
seems to have no end.
Your chest hurts so bad,
and the tremors set in.
You can’t eat or sleep,
so you traumatize your brain.
You’re scared you might die,
but you’re more scared of the pain.
Four days and you’re better,
but the memories end.
Then that tiny voice,
starts to whisper again.
Over and over,
rinse and repeat.
Slowly killing yourself,
for a small fix of heat.
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