What it’s like to have Anxiety

My mind is like a room.

four walls, no windows, a single light

Thoughts written onto the plaster

ever-moving, ever-changing,

Written in unimaginable shades from

bitter warmth to exuberant sorrow

flying around these singed barriers

too fast to catch...

too fast to understand.

The remnants of the inferno known as

memories

will never go away,

Always showing through the

new coats of paint

The darkness ever eminent

through the lighter colors I

try to hide them behind,

They always poke through

eventually.

Trying to redecorate will never

be easy. It seems

there will never be any outlets

for a lamp, and all the couches

turn to stone.

Comfort is a luxury

my brain will never accept.

And yet I try to rebuild,

always a toolbox by my side

...maybe soon I can build a window

and let others see into

my obscurity.