The War

I'm tired of melting into the background all the time.

I try my best to speak up and be seen ,

but no one ever seems to notice me.

No one seems to notice

that I'm barely treading the waters of anxiety and depression.

My fragile heart is pounding in my chest,

behind my ribcage ready to explode.

My tongue is constantly tripping over itself,

because there are simply too many words 

that need to escape from the cage of my vocal cords.

My lungs need to scream

 and yell 

and get everyone's attention, 

so that they finally realize

 that while I'm fighting this war the best I can,

 I keep losing battles.

And I'm scared

and scarred

and heart-broken

and alone

and fighting as hard as I can,

but despite my effort,

I'm losing. 

I'm losing this battle.

I fear I may lose the war,

but I will fight to the bitter end.

Reviews

[A. Amos]

You share a honest reality of everday life, I know myraid will relate with your poem. Good job!