Visitors

The sun rises, I wake up,

the dread sets in.

The voices swirl, I push them down

deeper, deeper, til they are just a wind

blowing back my hair that everyone tells me

is so beautiful.

See i can shove the anxiety down my throat like the food I can't get in fast enough until they are nothing but empty calories hiding away in each and every cell.

But isn't that the problem with everything that's empty?

If not used it accumulates

slowly, so slowly that you don't notice a difference

Like the frog that boiled up

or the freshman 15

what we shove down doesn't leave

and before we know it everything changed.

 

Well as they say

what goes down must come up- ok

maybe not but it's close enough- but these thoughts hang around

check in

get comfortable

unpack and pretty soon

they're right at home. 

A cranky teenager that loves the night.

You see who I am in the day exists free of the anxiety.

The anxiety's still asleep.

But like clockwork the thoughts get dolled up

and go to town

when the sun comes down

and when they party it's all or nothing

turn up

YOLO

WE RUN THIS TOWN

 

My visitors have overstayed their welcome.

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