Anxiety

I’ve got the pain, the pain, that anxious pain in my head again.

I don’t wanna go out coz I got the shame, that shame of forgetting peeps’ names.

Do u see those eyes on me, balling me, balling me, eyeballing me in the shop?

I don’t want 2 speak coz my brain is gonna stall on me, stall on me, make me stutter, choke n stop.

I wanna curl up in a ball n just crawl into a deep dark hole n hide.

But I’m forced to see people eyeballing me, balling me n looking unhappy n snide.

The anxiety hits me so bad, whenever I get stressed or rushed 4 time.

I used 2 make it worse, full paranoid schizo, by doing cheeky pub toilet top lines.

When I see peeps’ I don’t know in the street coming @ me, I walk past em a mile n a half wide.

N when I can’t find my wallet or phone, I’m on that dark painful panic filled slide.

All I wanna do is get my meds, my pills, crunch em up, n hopefully knock myself out.

Coz I can’t handle the fear when people get upset with me or angry n scream n shout.

What have I done to deserve this constant fear n anxious pain?

All I do is repeat the same steps n get that fear over n over again.

Where’s my keys, I’ve lost them, have u seen em? I’m gonna go mad.

Ten minutes later I realise there in my pockets so deep, I already had.

So just give me my meds, my pills n capsules, I need 2 calm down.

I’ve been on em so long, my script would knock any Zoo Elephant down.

N I can’t get off em coz I need professional help n time, which aint even here.

So talk of Detox n using Mindfulness or CBT, is not even near.

It seems the Government has shut down all the free rehabs 2 save on their cash.

They think I can just cut down at home alone, I wouldn’t even get a good bash.

No1 understands the fear n panic from anxiety I get in my head.

So I just put up with the pain, the fear, the balling n stay in my bed.

© 2023 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Addict...

Hello I'm Rob, and I'm an addict,

To be honest my addiction, is my habit.

Please close this page, if you ever liked me,

I don't want more ex friends, to think I'm mad as can be.

The truth is, I'm addicted to self abusing,

The truth is, I'm addicted to self amusing.

The truth is, I'm addicted to unhealthy and sickening care,

You can easily see the scars, on my limbs though my hair.

I'm addicted to being, sad and alone,

And I don't have the balls, to ever pick up a phone.

I'm addicted to major, self harm and abuse,

My life is a long road to hell, that was illegally introduced.

So basically I'm addicted, to not giving a fuck,

And I enjoy getting hit hard, when I'm having a ruck.

I like digging holes, deep in my own skin,

And I like cutting people up, like a can tin.

I'm addicted to always seeing the worst,

Coz the worst of the worst, is my own worse curse.

I can't help the flow, of my thin watery blood,

As the rain washes my body, lying unconscious in mud.

I'm addicted to nasty police, harassment and tugs,

They always ask if I'll hit them, when taking off cuffs.

I've had bare police cold, in my own hands,

The hands of a man, who didn't know the length of his own plans.

I'm addicted to not caring, about holes and cuts,

I'll end up alone, life’s clock ticked all out of all luck.

It's a shame there's no detox, that could ever fix me,

Take the drugs and meds away, and then you'll see.

That all my self harm, has probably been,

A way of keeping my family and friends, safe n clean.

Coz unfortunately the life I wanted, was not in store,

And I've walked dark roads, that nobody saw.

God just decided to deal me an early duff hand,

The sort in poker that only blags, bluffs n lies withstand.

I've tried, but there is no 12 step program for me,

And my only chip, has the Grim Reaper stamped for everyone to see.

© 2021 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid