As he walks up to me, anxiety, my closest friend, says hi.

Hands shake. Voice Breaks, Heart skips. Tears drip.

I want to talk to him, but I can’t. Anxiety wants my attention.

I really wish I could get his name, but I am distracted.

I can’t do anything I want to do.

I can never do what I want to do.


*Really wish the guy from Wal-Mart would see this. I didn’t mean to run off. On the bright side, he was a worker so maybe I will see him again.*

emo elegance Poetry

Noah Purser View All →

I’m just a dood tryna figure myself out. I write about shows, movies, the LGBTQ+ community, Pop Culture, and my original fiction work!!

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