As anxiety sets in,
What should make me normal again?
—Nothing but it,
And that’s certainly not bullshit.
Everyone can see it eating me up inside,
Making me toss and turn in bed violently side-to-side.
But once it courses through my veins,
Reaching the pleasure center of my brains,
Radiating warmth around me softly with each stride,
That’s when I decide to never leave the comfort of my bed,
Because if I did, and tried to go on, I surely would be dead.