Tag: anxiety

Tired

Tired

If only I could crack existence Not enough for it to break Just a little hemorrhage,  For me to slip away. Existence can mend Life can carry on again. But this escape can never be, For in the end this is just my dream. There is no you, There is only me.

Feckless Words

Feckless Words

Wasting my life spinning circles; lost in the void. Never quite sure, am I lost or is this all? Searching blindly in the abyss for any sign of relief. In my darkest hour, she saves me from the fall. A shining beacon beckoning me in the night. The star that guides me back to life. …

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Patriotic American Fury

Patriotic American Fury

I am filled with a rage beyond that which a patriotic man can possibly handle. I feel the fiery bowels of Hell boiling up and coursing through my veins. My eyes are bulging with a pulsating fury from my skull… I can’t find my satellite remote.

Breath of Burden

Breath of Burden

I wish I was dead; the thought greeted him as reliably as the sun each morning, and like a loving mother tucked him in snugly to bed each night. The air was heavy, dense. Death wasn’t his desire, it was his escape. His days consumed by unexplained loneliness; hiding in a crowd of friends. His …

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Misery Stains and Woe

Misery Stains and Woe

Ever the failure, consumed by woe; My logical brain knows, but I can’t let this go. Rationality says think happy thoughts, and it should be so. Pleasant musings to drown out unrelenting sorrow. When I try to find the words to describe my pain My world falls apart and my misery stains. Caustic blood of …

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Hiding From Silence

Hiding From Silence

The sound of silence; so fleeting and brief; For some it is a welcome and wanted relief; A reprise from societal cacophony and grief.   Their minds longing for the quiescence from commotion. Idle time to reconcile; to inventory emotion. They flourish, they grow; floating upon an existential ocean.   The sound of silence; so …

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Perpetual Motion

Perpetual Motion

I feel a constant pressure; my existence in a vice. My shoulders burdened by the burgeoning need to matter. I ache for a distraction to ignore the pain of having no purpose.   Growing weary of the questions; Why am I trapped here, angry, anxious and hopeless? Why do I feel this obligation to the …

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First World Problems

First World Problems

Tick The dusk of each forsaken day births the dawn of a disappointing tomorrow. Tock. My heaving chest rises then falls, heavy and strained; each respiration a chore for my weary soul. Tick Broken and defeated, yet optimistic for her; I muster the courage to try again. I’ll always try again. Tock. Feigning the vigor …

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