Poetry · Writing

Better

The words slipping out between my lips, taste familiar.

I run my tongue over my lips and bite back the next crushing wave of unease.

It all feels the same.

I close my eyes and Anxiety wanders through my mind, dragging her cold fingers of lost memories.

She makes me remember and I curse her for doing it.

I breathe deeply and wet my lips.

I feel the air constrict around me as I plead with her to go away.

She lights a match and inhales my pain. Smoke plumes around her like ashen wings, as she traipses down my memory lane, singeing everything in her path.

I slide down the wall, that I’ve plastered myself to. Unable to move forward, while in the throes of another one of her attacks.

I lean back onto the cold, hard surface, eyes closed, silently pleading with her. Sweat trickles down my back, like icy fingers, tracing her name on my skin.

The wrecks I’ve caused in my life, wash over me. The torture of every mistake, every tear shed, every night spent alone and freezing.

I flex my cramped fingers and fill my lungs with air, until they burn from pain. Thirsty for it, like I thirst for relief from her. My eyes blurry, stinging with tears, I wipe them with the back of my hand.

I am my worst enemy. All alone, in this hallway, I’m scaring myself.I’m falling apart, in this empty place.

I deserve better.

I press my nails into the palms of my hands until half-moon shapes appear, like old friends.

She’s desperate, clawing at my fears, tearing me to shreds. Clinging to me, like obsession. She’s lovely and vicious.

I almost fall back into her arms, cocooning myself in my failures. But I am no prisoner to my nightmares, so I let her burn, in the home she’s built in my mind. She can’t haunt me anymore.

As long as I’m alive, I’ll fight back. I’ll scream, and cry, and fight. She can’t hurt me.

I don’t deserve it.

I just want to feel better.

I just want to feel.

I just want to.

I just want.

I just…

I…

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