The tiredness that sank into his bones felt so real.

He had no reason to feel exhausted, yet he was.

He rolled out of bed, exhausted.

He went to school, exhausted.

He did everything a good scholar should, exhausted.

Nothing felt energizing.

Everything was another chore on his mental list.


The anxiety of who he was curled in his stomach.

He peered into the mirror, anxious.

He compared his body, anxious.

He thought about what he said, anxious.

He pondered his every action, anxious.

Nothing felt right.

Everything incited an internal panic.


The sadness weighed heavily on his shoulders.

He stayed up at night, feeling blue.

He stayed quiet when out with friends, feeling blue.

He ate constantly, feeling blue.

He immersed himself in his work, feeling blue.

Nothing felt exciting.

Everything was dissatisfying.

we learn through
iteration and repetition
repetition hones your craft
iteration grows your craft

there’s a loop
a loop of anger, despair, and nothing. numbness.
feeling numb is probably the best part, though feeling nothing gets lonely.
aching to feel something, anything.
the anything usually then turns into despair, and feeling so desperate makes me sick.
i’m tired of this endless cycle of agony, the static of feeling nothing, the ache of despair, the fire of rage.
i don’t know how to break out of it — how to break out of this hell.
i feel as if I’m drowning and the only thing i can do is hope i’ll float, no matter how fast i keep sinking to the bottom. staring up at the water blurred sky, stars blinking out and the moon becoming invisible as i begin to lose the breath i had been holding in.
the burning in my lungs soothe as water fills them, though the panic setting in makes my limbs thrash as i desperately heave for oxygen, getting nothing more than the cold liquid.
then it goes dark.
that part, is what i’m waiting for now. after the final panic.
the release.
i just want to be free.
why can’t i be free?

Identity plays a big role in my everyday life.
My identity allows me to be prideful.
My identity teaches me about relationships and the sincerity of people.
My identity is like a tutor. If I wasn’t the way I am, I would be very ignorant, and I still learn new things everyday.
My identity makes me feel uncomfortable with my body.
My identity urges me to do things that would be weird, and let’s me be unique from everyone else around me.
My identity sometimes feels like a chore. My identity is a series of trials and tribulations.
My identity has taught me more about myself than anyone could even attempt. My identity has put me at risk.
My identity has led me to be a victim of ****** assault.
My identity is something that is sensitive and dear to me.
My identity doesn’t owe anyone an explanation.

Piercing static noises
Disrupt the state of partridges
Their necks in holes like ostriches
At the slightest glimpse of consequences
Pertaining to their life expenses
How do they sense this?

The PSI required
To make us inspired
Roused by unspoken choirs
Using their strengthened minds
Under simple disguises
So that they surmise it
How do they sense this?

Mother’s eyes in the back of her head
They’re filled with dread
She looks ahead
To see when we have been misled
How do they sense this?

A dream is a vision wrapped in mystique
Intentions are good but the vision reaks
Perfection isn’t always what we all seek
How do they sense this?

Somebody tell me why everything in the world changes
Day to day
I notice the little things
The color of the air changes from orange to blue
Somebody tell me why one day an hour is a minute long and the next each second feels like a year
Why is every breath I take, every blink I make, every head turn, every wave, every smile and every frown
Just a little bit different.
Somebody tell me why nothing ever just stays the same
Somebody tell me why it seems that just when I get to know someone they change

we start the day again
as though sleep is just a memory,
the wheel keeps spinning

This feeling is

bigger than me.

I don’t hold the key,

To change the

way I want to be,

Constantly looking

at society,

Hoping things will change

but I wake up the next day

Feeling the same.


Looking in the mirror,

See a person

that I don’t wanna see.

A person with anxiety.

A shrunken soul

looking for a way

out of this hole

Hoping things will change,

but I wake up the next day,

Feeling the same.



I lie in bed

Alone.

Feeling like I want a clone.

Just to have someone like me

Someone with anxiety

Someone with more problems

than me.

Hoping things will change,

but I wake up the next day,

Feeling the same.


I imagine being lost at sea

Where a mirage will hold the key

To a new land

where no one knows my name

but someone will hold my hand.

Help me realise the answer

lies within me.

Help me realise I hold the key.