I inhale the smoke because I feel lonely/
Im wanting to sleep with random bodies/
Because I want someone to hold me./
I stay in contact with people, because I'm scared of someone ignoring me/
I have abandonment issues and I feel lonely/

I drink that bottle whole, because I feel anger./
I'm a sinking ship, and my anger is the anchor.
I'm holding onto life like some type of cliffhanger,
I'm always questioning myself, where do I find an answer?

I write my poetry because I feel depressed.
I write it in a way that rhymes, I label myself an orderly mess.
I stay up until 2am with a pen and paper so I can rest/
But it leads to an anxiety attack, and now my breathing is compressed.
Being...