ELEVEN. SIX. TWENTY NINETEEN.
All my love, I’d give to you.
All your pain, I’d take away.
It ain’t easy bearing all that weight for you to not complain.
When you feel your chest is caving in,
When that weight pulls you in different ways,
It can be heard to breathe.
When you can’t explain ‘this thing inside of me;’
They call it anxiety.
It makes you nervous.
It makes you tense.
It makes you sweat because the feelings immense.
You say words that don’t make sense,
“Get this out of my body!
Get this out of my mind.
Please, someone help me; I just want to be well all of time. ”
When your thoughts start to race,
You overanalyze at a rapid pace.
Your chest starts to hurt.
It makes it hard to breathe.
Anxiety… please let her be!
All my love, I’d give to you.
All your pain I’d take away.
It ain’t easy bearing all that weight for you to not complain.
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