Last night I couldn't crawl out of my skin fast enough.
The insects of anxiety were racing under the blanket of flesh that hides me from you.
I was trapped inside of my own head, caged in with the inmates that claim these confines.
thoughts of this, thoughts of that, exploded into a kaleidoscope of memories.
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' the insects of anxiety march on' a vivid description of such a feeling or sort of 'mental status'.. Thanks for sharing, Luke and WELCOME at P.H.! Blessings