(Verse 1)
You see me tap my fingers, maybe stare at the floor,
A sideways glance, I shift again—same as before.
You probably think I’m just nervous or bored,
But inside, it’s chaos I never asked for.
Each question you ask feels sharp and deep,
While a silent storm begins to creep.
(Pre-Chorus 1)
My chest gets tight, my breath starts to strain,
You call it “just stress”—like it’s all in my brain.
But there’s a sickness rising, twisting inside,
And I’m doing my best just to swallow the tide.
(Chorus)
But you don’t have anxiety—you don’t feel this fight,
This nonstop battle raging day and night.
You don’t see the build-up, the fear that grows,
Or hear my heartbeat pounding low.
You see a calm face—maybe slightly strained—
But there’s a war inside me, completely unchained.
(Verse 2)
You ask, “Are you okay?” with concern in your eyes,
But you didn’t see the war I fought just to arrive.
I nod, fake a smile, say, “Yeah, I’m alright,”
While my stomach turns and my hands grip tight.
These walls you love feel like they close in on me,
While I beg for a moment of clarity.
(Pre-Chorus 2)
A sudden sound—I flinch, then freeze,
You laugh and say, “You scare too easily.”
But you’re not in my skin, not inside this dread,
Where the loudest noise lives inside my head.
(Chorus)
No—you don’t have anxiety, don’t walk this path,
Don’t feel the burn, don’t face the wrath.
You don’t see the spiral, the panic that swells,
Or the prison I’m in, locked in these cells.
You see someone quiet, keeping it neat—
But inside, I’m screaming, knocked off my feet.
(Bridge)
You say, “Just breathe,” or “Don’t take it so hard,”
But I’m crumbling inside, falling shard by shard.
You think this is new? I’ve lived it for years,
Hiding behind jokes, hiding my fears.
This smile I wear is my last defense,
To hold back a wave that makes no sense.
(Final Chorus)
No—you don’t have anxiety, don’t carry this weight,
Don’t choke on the silence, or fear being late.
You don’t feel the dread that clings to my skin,
You don’t live the war I’m barely holding in.
You see composure—but I’m burning alive,
Just trying, somehow, to survive.
(Outro – soft, raw)
(Whispered or spoken)
You don’t understand…
You never really see…
This damn anxiety…
It lives inside of me.
Always.
Beexii
