Conversations with self

My anxiety is through the roof.

The truth —

Be damned !

Unplanned scrolling doling

out unnecessary feelings

I’m dealing

with the devil on the sly

I try to say goodbye but I

don’t wanna die

to myself.

There you have it.

My wealth is in my looks

it cooks deep inside my

pride

unhooked, a slow tease

I breeze through my life

trippin’, dippin’ my toes in

nothing —

Stirring up the pot for what?

Shut up.

I know

I’m to blame for the game

I’m playin’ in

got no say in who wins -

One sword, two blades,

1 cut, 2 drains down

the planes of my shoulders

holders of the world,

inner carried

weighing down, unlifted

I’m gifted

with a weakness that’s bleak, it’s -

a brilliant losing streak I guess.

I am witness to my own demise.

I’m not good, or wise.

A disguise wearing me thin.

What other lies am I believin’ in?

Oh child.

Where do I even begin?