It Holds

I can feel it, dancing across my torso.

I can touch it, pull it across my flesh.

I can hug it, tear my arms apart holding it.

I can let it go, feel the pain of it running away.

I only lose my mind when I don't have it. 

I only lose my heart when I've let go.

I only break my silence, the stitches between my lips, when it breaks from the safety of my soul.

When my hands clutch it - when my fingers graze its supple flesh, 

That's when I come alive.

That's when I die inside.

That's when my stomach turns to toilet water and my hands turn into dancing caterpillars unable to stand still.

That's when my knee always bounces and my eyes never move.

That's when my heart beats so deep, quiet, and fast that I feel as though I've already leapt from that cliff that looms right next to me.

I love it, I hold onto it, I feel safe with it.

Yet, It erodes me more and more each and every damned day. 

It tears at my fragile skin,

It shatters my bones and drains my marrow,

It swallows my blood like sugar,

It eats at my common sense like a starved man, 

It leaves scars on my heart and drains my tear ducts until they have run utterly dry.

It holds me like a newborn child in its arms, swallowing me in its enticing warmth.

I love it. 

It hates me.

It feeds off of me.

Yet, I stay. 

I stay even after it has drained me, stitched my mouth closed and taken away all my common sense.

It is alright because it is me. 

It resides inside of me.

It is my heart,

my blood,

my mind,

my skin, 

my lips,

my fingers, 

my toes,

my torso, 

my joints,

my eyes,

my tears,

my hands.

It breaks me, yet it is the only one I feel safe with. 

Without it, I am nothing.

With it, I am nothing.

Author's Note

A poem about Anxiety written after a really bad day <3