There's so much damage done underneath the surface.
Like a wasteland overflowing with hatred and confusion, collected over years of self destruction 
This is something I must face. 
Stirring inside is a war of emotion that I feed daily and like the most delicate flower, I wilt. 
Falling slowly to the floor
I'm a tear stained petal dressed in the shade sorrow.
Disconnected from the base of the flower
Much like I am from reality.
And it hurts. 
How did I become this way?
You can't fix me
Neither can I 
Moments like these make me question why I choose to remain sober.  
The complexity of my mind sends my senses into overdrive. 
Anxiety and anger are inseparable
One doesn't show up without the other
They peacefully co-exist so that I may suffer while I exist. 
My chest screams in between excessive beats. 
This must be hell.
I want to dig out my heart and start all over. 
I have this urge to rid myself of all the toxic habit growing inside. 
It seems the only way to heal is to peel back the layers and reflect upon why I feel this way.
Day after day, I have lived without really being alive. 
Walking around without the idea that there is more to all of this. 
Maybe all this inner turmoil is just a road I have to take to awaken my soul and start my journey.