Anxiety is not my enemy
She is my safety
Changed from years of turmoil.
She should have been held
And addressed properly
But she was pushed down and suppressed instead.
Anxiety is not my enemy
She is love trying to offer the protection that she never received
She is my safety betrayed.

Sorrow is not my enemy
He is my hurt
Turned inwards
Shoved aside and ignored
When his hands should have been taken
While he was told that it's okay to feel grief.
Sorrow is not my enemy.
He is my heart trying to recover from being trampled on.

Depression is not my enemy
He is my Self-awareness
Putting up decorations
That are loud and bright
Because no one noticed them last time.
He should have been seen
And hugged
And told that it's okay to not be okay.
Depression is not my enemy.
He is my soul attempting to remind me that my sorrow is real.

Anger is not my enemy
He is all of my nerves
Cut and bruised from hands and blades
That I never saw coming.
He should have been washed and bandaged
But instead, salt was poured into the wound.
Anger is not my enemy.
He is my throbbing skin trying to tell me that I've still got wounds that haven't scabbed over quite yet.

Fear is not my enemy.
He is my mind
Folded over on itself
Refusing to trust
Huddled in a corner
Because he could not trust the ones he should have been able to.
He should have been helped,
But he was ignored instead.
Fear is not my enemy.
He is the caution that I felt that everyone ignored–including me.

Trauma is not my enemy
She is a little girl
Screaming for help
Because no one listened to her before.
She should have been heard
And dealt with gently
Trauma is not my enemy.
She is the part of me that never truly healed. She is the part that no one ever listened to.
But I'm listening now.

And I am not my enemy.