There is a cold shadow in my chest
Which works its fingers through my veins
And whispers messages in my mind,
Coaxing me to the darkness it presents.

The confusion under my skin is viral,
Making me question things over a vast scale
From my self-confidence to my existence
To my place–if there is one–in other’s hearts.

I begin to fear the results of this disease;
That the anxiety will reveal itself to society
And I’ll be considered as strange and insane
Without regards to the true nature of my soul.

But courage and strength stand solid as gold,
Allowing me to breathe in laughter and ease,
So that perhaps I can dream of hope and love
Before this shadow is able to conquer my blood.