I've got issues.
I can tell you a few.
hold this door.
and I'll tell you more.
Anxiety keeps trying to get in.
I hold the handles tightly.
but Anxiety is mighty.
it blows out the candles.
leaving me in the dark
tripping over garbage
holding me hostage
using my head as storage
but it's a constant battle.
leaving me on my knees
in the chapel
trying to unravel
Anxiety from me
Depression moves in
telling me it's my friend.
pulls me back to the dark,
where thoughts spark.
cleaning starts'
i don't get far,
careening my head,
words spread,
like butter on toast, they melt in.
it's a shit card, I've been dealt,
too many issues,
to go on. I'll take the door,
Got to be strong.
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken Poetry
Poetry⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ if any of the tagged things are sensitive to read about or makes you feel uncomfortable, please do not read! I'd hate to be the reason you feel either way.
