Anxiety isn't your friend,
Nor does it want to be.
And yet it will creep up beside you, take
your hand and say "come with me".
It will lead you into the dark places.
The ones kept at the back of your head.
The ones that when you think of them,
Just fill your heart with dread.
Anxiety is a foul smell
that's carried in on the evening air.
It lingers and tickles your nostrils.
You can't see it and yet it is there.
It steals good days in abundance,
Smiles are it's favourite to eat.
And just when you think it's vanished,
those times it just waits to defeat.
It likes to think it can own you
when you're alone and scared in the night.
But those are the times to remember
that you have to continue to fight.
My story is not one of solution -
of that I could never advise.
But it is one of raw truth telling
in the hope you might empathise.
And to the warriors who fight along with me.
In standing with you I find courage to fight
these feelings of stress, woe and sadness.
Those thoughts that don't make me feel right.
I've come to the end of my story.
That's it - done and dusted, the end.
The truth is you never know
just what someone's going through.
That's why it's important to just be a friend.
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