[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/191112/ce04023b5c8ed64d3b631f525176f01f.png[/img]

My anxiety is an axe murderer,
with a flower in its hand.
It urges me to slay myself,
with ill-will and poetic demand.

With bitters and salt.
With honey and malt.

Grains of irreconcilability through me,
malleable like mountains in desert sands.