Lonely is the life
Of an anxious mind.
I take my clock out
To unwind
At the stroke
Of midnight.
It’s been forever
Since my first crush
And her girlfriends
New to S&M
Melted in my mouth
And in my hand
At the stroke
Of midnight.
anxiety
Sensitive Subject
I want to love
a brave woman
a smart woman
a playful woman
I want to embrace
the universe
of joy and sorrow
alive and well
within the soul
of a single woman
but my body is afraid
of being
hurt again
after years of writing
about suffering
and surviving trauma
my body remains
a sensitive subject
Carry My Soul
Depression = Anxiety wants to end Anxiety.
Once and for all.
Mania = Anxiety is up all night.
Perfecting a poem about Anxiety.
PTSD = Anxiety hurts Anxiety.
Anxiety blames himself for creating Anxiety.
This is how
My day begins.
This is how
My life goes
Wrong.
This is how
I fall apart.
Trying to control
Forces out of my control.
Trying to control
My need to control
Forces out of my control.
This is how
My body grows
Too weak
To carry
My soul.
Forget Happiness
Forget happiness
I need to feel safe
I want to feel safe
I need to feel safe
Happiness hurts
I need to feel safe
Charles B. Snoad 