I layer looking at the textured ceilings
the roof my parents worked to provide for me
laying in the blankets the bought to kept me warm
with my belly full of food that gives me life
Everything serene
except my mind
My mind is tortured and restless
Never good enough
Eating too much
Not pretty enough
Lack of friends
Rarely successful
These are the things planted in my mind
But having material things should be
enough to be happy
So I guess I am