i feel my mind getting sicker
polluted by my constant being alone
i suppose i have ambitions but my unsettling disregard for how my life turns out clouds every corner of my thoughts
i rather dabble with alcoholism than improve my art
i rather block out all the noise of the world with music every day and every night than try harder to graduate
i rather drive myself insane stuffing every issue inside my head to mingle with my frustration and befriend my sadness than simply tell people how i feel
i rather die than live to age 30 and see my beauty fade right before my eyes
i rather pull away from great people than risk them trying to analyze what my impulsive and irrational actions mean
this is how it feels to hit rock bottom at seventeen