I’m feeling the pressure like an unprepared professor at their very first lecture,
as my anxiety begins to build and tests my will I discover what are my tendencies that time has instilled,
it’s like I’m a stranger to myself who has issues with mental health and no instruction manual on my bookshelf,
looking back on all the damage I’ve endured and my insecurities I’m assured of all I can do is look
With no way to relieve the stress and the tension and my mood refusing ascension alcohol is what gains my attention
I can always count on her to be my safe place with her love and embrace
I find myself in a hole and continue to dig with the shovel