Dawning Creations

My chest is tight, stricken with emotions.

My body registers the fire, holding onto it though it blisters with rememberence.

I don’t want to be your burden.

My lips hold in the agony, behind grinding teeth and swallow it down.

Tears hit my sheets, face is flat against cotton, fat and puffy while crying.

Pathetic, I loathe myself right now.

This face is not pretty but neither is anxiety.

Anxiety hides inside the pretty and the “bold” leaving it’s seeds of worry to bloom when least expected.

Like a parasite it feeds off of our human emotions and creates something larger than itself.

Panic …