It's feast or famine,
Or at least that's what I tell myself.
A coping mechanism for a fool-
only in place to ease the minds of the broken.
A meer fantasy as fragile as glass,
at most just idealism of the comfort zone - the domain in which I rule.

It's sink or swim, in this shallow pool.
Remaining afloat, has become taxing.
Tethered, my anchor holds me in place.
Granting me the bare necessities in breathing space.
I struggle in silence, most of us do.
Open discussion, has become a taboo.