Anxiety

I wish I could be something different;
I wish that each time a situation arose that 
I didn't recognise 
my eyes didn't open
as though surprise
was my constant 
expression.
Regression 
to a time when my innocence 
was real;
and in a sense
I feel
like some kind
of sideways impression
of this repression
in my chest,
a weight 
that rests
heavy.
A test
that I can't pass.
In the past I thought 
I knew,
yet it's clear that
I am new to what
this world really is,
forgive me this
naivety.
Naively I thought
you would believe me.
I'm just a coward.
How hard
can this be,
just because it's not 
me
or not what I think 
Of 'me' as limitation.
Even if I undertake an
imitation of
some new being,
seeing 
nothing now
as falsity
draws closer,
Blind 
and hyperventilating 
interrogating 
my lonely thoughts. 

Get out my face,
leave me to my place.
Forget me where I stand
outstretched hand
to greet,
meet
someone else;
I left,
yet still that is my hand
I stand in body.

Melody,
not song. 

Noise.

My head is full. 
My head is dull.

I'm breaking into 
broken silence
as someone talks
but I can't walk 
to follow,
voices in the hollow
distance,
resistance 
is all. 

Call me by my name 

someone else

because I can't embody 
this person
who stands
and flounders at the
offer of a hand.
Founders 
of a flame,
like mans first foray
to fire,
LIAR
LIAR.
Lying in the dirt,
hurt
by my own frailty of mind.
Lose me and leave me,
believe me, I'm not fine.