Anxiety
poem by:
Sea High
Written
on Aug 03, 2016
I stood against the tide
And set my sights on the end,
I saw a future bride
And all the broken things to mend,
I pushed away any help
And if it never would return,
I had to be myself
And learn to push on through the burn.
Would I show my face,
Show my work,
Show my treasures?
At least I would embrace the hurt and glorify the pleasures.
How is it with such ideals,
I've lost what I hold dear?
Because I've never known my heart
The way I know my fear...