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