Anxiety Time
By: Nash and Bell
The hand knocks, jiggles and jots as it rides
the counter clock counts as it goes clockwise
surprised; I see it on a wall as my life fly’s
while I'm going crazy waiting for anxiety time
to cross a defining line, leading a harsh life
reminding me of mine; an elder one I'd prized
anyways ..back to my lie, a cage of white
in my jacket wishing someday to be able to hide
in a place I wouldn't have to cry to be inside
now I smell and see these toilet stained walls
maybe these men wont come inside if I stall
then, so it's no lie at all; ending the flattery
I'm not so crazy, but I destroy bits of padding
This calms and makes me have a happy day
Am I real or am I just a figment of all decay
They say I'm psychotic, now isn’t that ironic?
A 54-year-old man that's still on the chronic.
I'm on it; the twisted mind I've been granted
with eyesight, like a seed; it’s been unplanted.
Damn it, I've been transparent like the parent
of dying spawn and I've been arrogant.
Baring shit, like the father of manslaughter
Cuz I'm scaring it and wearing it like a daughter.
With "Eat me" on my shirt, its my insanity
That glares at me and stares at me, a calamity.
That burns my family, its kind of scaring me.
Daring me and swearing me to a hypothesis
I've found my way but I've forgotten my prey
My child’s play has gone overrated like a Shakespeare play
Its fucking anxiety time, watch my ill mental rhymes
I may live in a facility but Its not my turn to die
And I repeat, its Anxiety Time.
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