Blunt

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