You are not looking young,
That's what my mother keeps saying to me.
But there is a problem,
A big problem,
A problem with myself,
That problem is difference
I don't think like you, maybe worse
I dont reason like you, maybe abnormally.

But I drink,
And then I am good,
I make friends,
I remember how urgent I am,
But then drink, it's a route to an end,
Wilshere! my friend calls
One thing will **** a man,
So i drink, this time from the bottle
To look for who i am,
But all i see, is what i hear them call me;
Failure, shame, disgrace, liar, thief, lazy, loser,
Then I rage at them,
Promise to take revenge for the pain,
Then they come back,
Seeking my assistance,
And I help them,
Am I not a loser and a failure?
Then they have been right about me.

If the bar is low,
maybe I won't disappoint
you with my failures...

The tingle of anxiety
It’s creeping into my chest
Into my gut
That unplaceable guilt
The incessant nerves

Meanwhile
Life is cold
I can’t feel anything pleasant
Everything is so empty...
So... so grey....

So I guess...
I suppose I’ll lie in bed
Try to eat something
Wear something soft
Watch a movie
And wait
For the anxiety meds
To idk... fix something

We can all be better,

        for that one moment.

We can touch a
               heartbeat
              and show that even though


were at our lowest.

we can raise someone

                 higher just when they need it.

Everything today is tainted with a cold hue,
As though all the world were glazed with an icy blue.

A tear frozen at the midpoint of my cheek,
Stagnating the sorrow and deeming the day bleak.

Eyes want to rain like to sky is right now,
But hydration eludes me and my clouds take a bow.

Grey lingers languidly above this arid head,
The colour of the frozen paints me paralysed in its bed.

Rain, please rain so that I can make this green again,
I don't belong in this starved sketch, lead me to a new terrain.