would they realize how hard they make my life?
Thoughts grow legs,
crawl all over me.
A nervous scratch,
the skin welts over.
If you scratch hard enough,
irritated and red,
an itch becomes a burn.
You're numb to it.
Has anxiousness ever given you anything
worth living through?
Can you amount to anything
without me
anxiety?
I'm an odd vessel you work through.
Trust me,
I don't need you,
but I'm sure it's you. . .
