Anxiety

I try to tune it out,

But it always finds its way back in.

All I want to do is cry because I don’t know what it’s about,

But it’s hard when every tear feels like a sin.

Do you see it as selfish to feel pain

When you look at what I have?

Because sometimes I think I’m insane

And my heart wants to rip in half.

I try to say I’m not scared,

But it always seems to win.

Honestly, I’m always scared,

When will it let my life begin?

Do you see it as selfish to feel fear

When you look at what I have?

Because I reflect on that every year

And my heart still wants to rip in half.