Maybe I need a boyfriend.
Maybe I need a friend who will just hold my hand.
Because I have been losing my shit,
And I have become complacent about it,
To the point where I cannot begin to explain it.
I wake up every day and do what I have to do to get by,
Serving the single purpose of avoiding the chance to die,
And having this overwhelming feeling to breakdown and cry.
Not because I think my life is a waste,
Since I would be dead already if that were the case,
But because I am frustrated with this place.
I am frustrated that I can’t seem to stop smoking,
And I hate that a hobby of mine is toking,
That is pushed to the point where I have become broken.
I can’t seem to function without the release,
I find in the secrets that I consistently keep,
Hiding the fact that I am struggling and preventing me from taking a leap.
Because I have faith in my abilities,
And I have confidence in my reality,
That I have the power to change everything about me.
But the real question is —
Do I want to change this?
Or am I satisfied with my shit?
Is this life something to complain about?
Or something that motivates me to shout out?
And claim everything to which I am devote?
Because this struggle has made me who I am,
And I have never allowed anyone to hold my hand,
Since growth is something only I can accomplish in the end.
Which leaves me to question,
The complaints that I purge with this pen,
And the manner in which I approach this life again.
Do I need someone to hold my hand?
Or can I do this independently that way I always have?
And why do I feel shame in admitting that I can?
Why do I feel pressure to have a life that is “complete”?
And why can I not deny this secret that I keep?
How can I suppress this thought that does not allow me to sleep?
That I am missing a piece of this life,
And that that piece could lessen my strife,
If I only allowed myself to be open to my own advice.
If only I stop fighting this change,
And stop feeling like I am deranged,
In order to accept that I am struggling through this pain.
And the one thing that might help,
Would be if I removed myself from the isolation shelf,
And accept that I desperately want someone other than me to support myself.