Shifting

The words don't come easy to me

Take this for an instance

The course of this poem,

It takes different forms

As it moves along. 

During the day, when the darkness 

Of my thoughts brings out

Things from the drawers I don't want to open

Whilst keeping the positive aside 

Shut in a box, locked thrice 

And kept under the bed. 

I see my veins 

Popping up on my skin

Tracing along them gives me

A tingling feeling, like they don't belong there

They want to break free.

On other days they become a passenger 

Running in a course, hoping to pump the blood to my heart,

Just in time and not even missing it out. 

I think about this too much that at times I forget how to

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breathe. 

My anxiety is like a man in a black coat 

Walking in a crowded area 

Whispering horrible things hoping

One of those people will believe him and 

Join him in his quest to haunt feelings. 

I see the man in the black coat now running into the classroom, 

Shouting and telling everyone to leave

Closing the door shut

I sat there face to face with him.

I trace my veins and they feel like a bamboo shoot

Making me aware of the fact that there's life within

This skeleton with skin has a heart that beats 72 beats a minute.

It scares me so much, I forget how to feel. 

The man in the black coat storms out and fades away.

This poetry shift to different forms, 

How many did you keep up with?