today I woke up and I stared at the ceiling. Am I really alive? Again. Is it really daytime, I couldn't tell I've stood up all night with my insomnia taunting me. Starting to regret taking my meds with a side of a blunt and four loko. I don't feel real, I feel like a used tissue. I feel awful, like a burden in society. I'm irritated and I can't sleep I feel like the biggest bum.
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surviving the storm
PoetryA collection of poems meant to soothe and release the pain from the rainy days
