Would you be proud of me
Or have I forsaken you;
Abandoning the family I promised to save;
Am I selfish? To want better?
To have better in my hands and leave them to rot;
Is this something I brought upon myself?
Did I cause them to curdle and rot?
Am I the only sane one around or maybe I'm just sour milk as well.
Way past overdue, in a crowded fridge
God forgot me like the rest of them.

Setting:
One bedroom apartment, run down
Hasn't been cleaned for months
Leaning back on a three legged couch
Chain smoking at 7PM with the sun setting
Through the black out curtains pinned to the wall
With some edgy alt-pop ******* on shuffle.
Dagger in hand questioning what is real and what is fake.
What makes a person? Their name? Their past, their presence?
Who will I be known as when I pass
Will they mourn the sulking writer who drank and smoked her life away?
Will they lay to rest the prepubescent drama queen and avid book enthusiast?
Or will they bury the dreams of this girl possibly pulling herself together to make something great.

The one bedroom apartment;
where your drinking habits only scare your cat.

basically to be frank I feel like I’m in a constant state of limbo

not happy nor sad somewhere bouncing in the in between

fooling myself with other prospects who drop a hint or two

laughing at the state of things, myself and you

At this point its hard not to deny we were better off back then on both sides.

I smile at the thought of that.

I smile.

Strangers stare and question her sanity
although she pleads her case on something else
the bags under her eyes everyday remind you of yourself;
Sunrises were your reluctant goodnight
to a drug fueled night alone again.
Back when your forehead was too big so you cut your bangs yourself.
Back when Bloc Party, no matter the song, brought you to your knees
to plead
and facebook stalking was reasonable considering;
Tell them the honest to goodness truth
it hurts for a while but then you'll love again.
That special someones right under you nose
even as we speak.
Something they never wanted isn't worth the blood sweat and tears,
so breathe babygirl because your second coming is now.

.I can fake it but for only so long.
I'm inebriated constantly, or sleeping
Mainly sleeping.
. I want to sleep for good.
I want to dance.
I want to cry.
I want to be held.
I want to end it all.

manic episodes
social phobia
PTSD
generalized anxiety disorder
hyperactive ****** desire disorder
bulimia nervosa
body dysmorphic disorder

Thanks doc for the diagnosis