The anxiety,
And the unwelcome bpd
Coming with a constant need of leaving my own body
It still doesn't belong to me
It still doesn't contain me
It still doesn't represent me
So i'm smoking until I can't think
Like it's my only instinct
Smoking until i'm not able to mask
Until everything is not a never ending task  
Just another meager hit of smoke
If I don't help myself, I might lose us both

I want to feel the happiness, the treasure of worthiness
Or at least a little steadiness
Starved and drained of self-worth
Only for me, the notorious dearth
Gripping, scraping and crushing out flaws
Somehow i'm believing those sardonic applause

For me time is an depleting flow of self disrespect
And I need to move on from my own echo of neglect