Poem (Explicit Language)

Not trying to offend anyone.

Not even sure why I’m posting.

I feel so fucked, it should be a crime

Not a place to turn. I get so much shit because I’m always tired.

The only other option to sleeping is dying

I get shit for crying

They ask me what does crying do

Well at least I didn’t throw up on you.

I Fucking crave control

But all I’m handed is tiny a thread

Theres your life support they said.

I feel sick to my stomach

I piss on my bed

For a single fucking day I just want to get out of my head

My lungs are tight my throat is closed even my body has overdosed.

On bullshit.

Anxiety they call it.

Misery I call it.

Lonely in the house full of people, no one gets it , no one to speak to. I’m misunderstood, and I can’t fucking please everybody and why the fuck should I?

I’m tired of helping people before I help myself.

When I’m fucking drowning will any of them help? No.

I know.

Because I’m drowning.

And I’ll I have is that fucking thread.