Anxiety with its ceremonial blade
Carves crude and jagged shapes upon my heart
Leaving holes to fill with its devilish delights
Anxiety, a hellish beast
Watches with sadistic pleasure
As you cry and shake and dissociate
Waiting for the death that must be nigh
I try to fight!
Truly, I do
But my weapons are blunt from constant use
Once, long ago, I might have sharpened them
But I’ve lost the strength, the skill
And I am afraid
I am afraid of what is coming
Because Anxiety preaches doom
And it’s just so fucking easy to believe when your life has tragic joke
Tell me how I’m to believe that things will be okay!
Nothing is ever okay!
It never has been
I don’t know what to do anymore
It’s dark and cold
And my weapons are blunt
I’m on Vocal!
Hello darlings! I hope this post finds you well!
I’ve discovered a new platform to post my ficlets, short stories, prose and articles! My stories vary in genre, from fantasy to horror and everything in between. It would mean a hell of a lot if you decide to make your way over and check it out! So far I have 4 works published but there will be lots more to come! And, if you like what you read, feel free to support me by leaving a tip at the end of the piece! ;D I’ll be forever grateful!
The link is posted in the bio of my profile! I hope you’re all staying safe during these strange, anxiety inducing times!
Little Black Rose
I saw the rose petals bleed
Colours sliding down the drain
A mimicry of my long lost life
Washed away by rain
The once lush, crimson flower
Now bleached in opaque black
Crushed, forlorn, ignored and cold
Depicting all I lack
Poor, sad, little black rose
Left all alone to cry
My heart aches to comfort it
With a shiny, innocent lie
But I know that I must not
For lies are not the way
Who am I to offer hope
When I’ve nothing hopeful to say
So I’ll carry the black rose
Worn proud upon my breast
To show it that there is no shame
In being Melancholy’s guest