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.
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.
Because I’m drowning.
And I’ll I have is that fucking thread.