Poem - metaphor (an extended version)

It's worse than the green-eyed monster
But, there's no term for it.
No metaphor.
No nothing.
It just lives.
And grows.

It just eats away at you.
Slowly but surely, it's trying to kill you.
Trying to take away your desire.
Your fight.
Your will.

It makes everything seem like it is pointless.
Everything is too hard to overcome.
Everything is daunting.

Time goes on.
It gets worse.
It builds.
and Builds.
and BUilds
and BUIlds
and BUILds
and BUILDs
and finally BUILDS
until you SCREAM.

You can't take it anymore.
Something has to give

But what?

Everything is too precious
 -in its own right-
in its own way

So how do you determine what goes away?
What takes precedence?

Time for a list.
It makes me scream again.
Makes me anxious

How will it ever get done?
Nothing will get done.
I'm going to fail.
Let someone down.

Worse - let myself down.