This anxiety is a shadow that never leaves me.

It starts out silently, siphoning my vitality,

Quickly turning violently, rewriting my reality.

It takes over privately, tirelessly invading my privacy.

Blood boils as the pulse beats with fury,

Turning everything I know into pure misery.

Each breath becomes a battle, a struggle to remain whole,

Breaking me to pieces; I fight for control.

While thoughts spiral like a tempest, consuming my soul,

Hope flickers dimly, a candle in the storm.

Yet I cling to its light, desperate to transform.

For anything other than myself, I can’t stand.

I look to the mirror for a remedy; all I see is a plant,

Growing in me, altering my memory,

Leaving me in a state I can’t stand.

Dripping poison with no remedy,

Clarity disappearing into a haunted dreamland.

I try to look in my eyes;

All I can see is impregnated air,

That fills my head and vision with lies,

Pretending they are the real friends that truly care.

I know they are thoughts that deceive,

As the tempest continues to rage,

Shattering relief that replaces belief,

Bleeding hope into a desperate ache.

Each moment stretches endlessly,

A constant roadmap to destinations of despair,

Where whispers of my past echo, taunting me to beware.

The weight of every heartbeat

Feels like chains that bind my chest,

A prison built from memories

Where solace never rests.

I wander through the flummox of doubt, a ghost in my own skin,

Searching for the fragments of the joy I once held within.

But shadows dance around me, mocking every step I take,

As I drown in the silence, a prisoner of my fate.

The clock ticks on relentlessly; each second feels like years,

A symphony of sorrow, composed of all my fears.

I reach for fleeting moments, but they slip right through my hands,

Like grains of sand in an hourglass, lost in shifting lands.

The mirror reflects a stranger, a visage worn and pale,

A specter of the person I was, now trapped in this dark tale.

I scream into the void, but the echoes fade away,

Leaving only emptiness, abyss where hope can't stay.

Each dawn breaks like a promise, yet it crumbles into night,

As the sun sets on my spirit, extinguishing the light.

I search for signs of healing, but the wounds run far too deep;

In the garden of my mind, only thorns and shadows creep.

The world spins on around me, oblivious to my plight,

While I’m anchored in this tempest, adrift without a sight.

I long for liberation, to break these chains of pain,

But every path I wander leads me back to this disdain.

So I sit in quiet anguish, a captive of my fears,

Counting all the moments lost, drowning in dry tears.

And as the night envelops, I surrender to the dark,

For in this endless struggle, I’ve forgotten how to spark.

Yet still, a flicker lingers, a whisper in the night,

A yearning for a dawn that might bring back the light.

But hope feels like a stranger, a distant, fading dream,

As I navigate this labyrinth, caught in a silent scream.

—TerrySalmon—