Pumping blood of worries,
On veins of negativity.

Made up of dark chambers,
And loneliness for arteries.

Beating with danger,
Thumping with fear,

Pounding hard for the unusual things,
Though they are not yet made clear.

Silently screaming,
Wanting to get out of this old trap.

Quietly shouting,
To get out of everything I’ve messed up.

It has always been like this from the start.
Tearing me up piece by piece, part by part.

Wanting me to get completely broken apart.
This is how it works— the anatomy of an anxious heart.