Problems

Among my friends

laughing and having a good time.

Neon sign lights reflected on my skin.

You don't realize you are alone

in the middle of a crowd.

You don't realize you are alone

at three in the morning in your room.

You don't realize you are alone

when you don't have a shoulder to cry on.

You realize you are alone

when you look for an escape.

You realize you are alone

when you are always running away.

You realize you are alone

when you purposely look

for anyone to take you somewhere

that isn't home.

You realize you are alone

when you let someone

you don't  even like

slip their hand under your skirt.

You realize you are alone

when you let them put their hand

and so much more between your thighs.

And the problem doesn't lie

in having a few drinks.

The problem doesn't lie

in getting high every now and then.

The problem doesn't lie

in a few nightstands.

The problem lies

in your friends not wanting to go out with you

because they know they will have to take care of you.

Every single time.

The problem lies

in not being able to control your emotions

if you don't have a few drinks.

The problem lies

in lashing out without a reason

if you're not high.

The problem lies in

actually liking the idea of never giving it up.

It lies

in not showering for days,

in not eating for days,

when your bedsheets smell,

when your room is such a mess

you can't even walk.

The problem lies

in not leaving your room for days,

in not wanting to talk

to anyone about anything.

The problem emerges

when a heavy dark feeling

wights you down so much

you don't find any energy to move.

So, you lay there,

in the darkness,

unmoving,

thinking about how muchyou want to die

and shivering at the thought because you mean it.

There lies the problem.

When you can't crontrol it.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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