Anxiety is getting quieter, but it's not gone. I feel it in my periphery, knocking and scratching. My walls are a little stronger today, and a little stronger everyday. But there's always that unwelcome guest tapping on my door. I hear it whispering through the boards, little lies I don't quite believe but I can't quite ignore. Each day is a fight.

Depression is a little louder today. Not quite loud enough to leak but it falls like rain on my roof. My roof is a little stronger today, and a little stronger everyday. But the rain still falls heavy and cold. When I find a leak, I patch it. Trusting the patches hold longer than I do. The rain makes me feel heavy and cold. Each day is a fight.

Anxiety has - no power over me.
Depression has - no power over me.
My voice is my own. My voice is kind.

No other voice may rule my mind.

Depression is - getting coffee and a donut before work, knowingly making yourself late, because you are just so desperate for something - anything, to make you feel even the tiniest bit happy.

Anxiety is - telling yourself that all you'll be is fat and late for work - never happy.

Depression is - emptying me.

Anxiety is - drying me out.

Anxiety is - hearing your co-workers talk quietly in another room, and assume they're planning to fire you. (With no evidence whatsoever).

Depression is - telling yourself you deserve to be fired anyway.

Depression is - locking yourself in the bathroom at work for as long as you can get away with, and laying on the floor. Praying to fall asleep and wake up anywhere else.

Deceit for many moons.
Many days, many lies.
To see you through many moods.
The thought waters my eyes.

How is it I have let this go?
How is it that I have known?
The pain that holding this would cause.
Makes me wish my heart would pause.

I know I'll tell you.
I'll tell you soon.
Yet the more I hate it,
The more I swoon.

Anxiety is - waiting for the car to pull up, stomach eating itself away. Every minute needs a blueprint and you twist into one big knot trying to write them all.

Skeletal cinnamon trees
Frosted with the breaking, grey sky
Know more love than you
And they know more life than I

Flowing as white as the snow
With the one that she loves by her side
She'll regret this day again
When she has nowhere to hide

And I'll sit and watch them freeze
And my fingers will go numb
In the coldness of their timing
Knowing I should be the one

When you found me
I was lopsided
Uneven, unloved
Over touched
You picked me up
And evened me out
When you found me
Crawling in the dirt
I finally found what I was looking for