Anxiety

I hate the way I often sigh.
And how easy things can make me cry.
Like popping up to say ''oh hi!''
Then five minutes later you'll say goodbye.
I hate how things will get to me.
Mainly the things you cannot see.
It's like wishing I could just be free.
Let go of things and let it be.
I'm trapped inside this empty box.
Yet it fills my stomach tight with knots.
Thinking of things I haven't got.
Whilst hoping that the pain will stop.
And I wish that we could just rewind.
All of the damage left behind.
But it's not left,
It's still here.
It's the kind that fills my heart with fear.