Anxiety.

Back to reality
I feel these arms grab at me,
Pulling me into a metaphorical field beyond gravity.
At least that's how it feels when my own mind is mad at me,
Playing all these tricks just to see what it can have from me.
I lose sight of reality,
A hole becomes a cavity
And boom, there we go - seems like life is catching up on me.
People always say we create our own destiny
All I can create is my own worst enemy.
Seems like I have my back but then I turn to hell on me.
A spell on me.
A curse on me.
I only see the worst in me.
But on those good days, it's all sun rays
I sit happily reflecting on my old ways.
How I've grown so, and found self faith.
How everything is taking shape.
In those times I talk for days,
And my inner voice, well its all praise
Light and creative, all colour and no greys
Clear air there's no haze
Straight ground, no maze.
I don't have to decode it, I feel like I own it ...
And on those rare days I wish I could box it and clone it.