Anxiety runs my life.
She is my sole provider;
Provider for attacks and sleepless nights.
She bubbles my stomach and forces me inside my own head,
Trapped like a prisoner.
No way out,
No reality in sight.
Every life event dances in front of my eye,
Every memory
Every mess up
All the good
All the bad
She will strap me to a chair, pull my eyelids back, and tie up my hands so that I cannot grab on to a single one.
Instead,
I must sit there and take her torture.
My brain so busy it has fried in eternity,
Leaving me with no survival instincts.
I cannot speak without my tongue twisting into a knot
I cannot breathe without feeling my lungs scrape against my ribcage
I cannot escape her nails sinking deeper into my skin
I will have no clue where I am
Or who I’m supposed to be.
I will stay there with her,
Strapped to her chair,
Listening to her ungodly laugh
As every nerve in my body screams in fear
Stuck in a spiral
Scared of who or what
I see in the mirror
She will randomly decide she has had enough fun with me.
And when I get unstrapped from the chair
And see the world around
When I can finally take a breath
And even maybe have a sip of water
I will be confused.
Not realizing 3 hours have passed since her arrival.
3 hours of torture.
It will not feel real
Like I woke from a dream
But I will see the marks across my wrists
From where I was bound
And I will know
There is no escaping.
I will always be her prisoner.