Anxiety

Being alone is a blessing and a curse, sometimes I imagine myself in a hurst, I don’t want to wish this horrible energy on myself, but it’s hard having promises kept. Can’t look anyone in the eye anxiety is preventing an eagle to fly. Corny I know but corny is all I know. Born raised and grown up scared don’t know what to do any more but contemplate. Contemplate on this day, the next and forevermore. Thinking, plotting, scheming only to utter one word from the overflowing and bountiful endless sea of thought. Thoughts opinions ideas morals values. It’s so hard being alone. No one can relate to my petty and selfish sadness. Longing for a touch only to fear it altogether. P