When I'm riddled with anxiety
I think of all that could've been, all that I'll never be.
I can only hope this time I will not push away
The only people in my world that keep me sane.
But sometimes isolation is all that I need
I prefer to be alone when my consciousness bleeds.
The weight that holds on the soul grows tiring.
And I've had it.
Omnipresent scenes reside, of the images I preserve inside.
I closed my eyes and turned around to once and for all, leave you all behind.
No matter what I try, this weight lingers but never leaves.
No matter what I try these scenes still reside, can I find no reprieve?
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