Poems That I Form

consider this

**word vomit, slightly high, very tired and sad. No responses please.**

You'd think
Being in quarantine would
Make the little introvert named Esperanza
Quite happy.
She gets to do art,
Sing,
Play her ukulele named Gladys,
And generally continue her bullshit.

Consider this;
You are a seventeen year old girl who ran out of depression band anxiety medication for a month now,
Because your pharmacy can't stock it.
You have a mother who always tell you that
You're a disappointment,
You are a pessimistic bitch,
You can't do anything more than stay in your room.
You have a brother who is so sweet,
So innocent,
But only when eyes are facing him.
And only if the eyes are from adults.
You have friends,
But they don't talk to you,
Even during this hell where everyone is connecting.
You lost half of them anyways because
They fucked your ex and expected you to get over it
and to continue to give advice and be there for them
When they did jack shit for you when he's the reason you almost killed yourself.
Your theater shows were cancelled.
Your one escape from home,
Cancelled.
You lose another friend because you're so
Utterly in love with her and one other boy,
And then she fucks you over by flirting with you,
But dating him.
Even though she said she was only attracted to girls,
And while you'll giver her space to figure her sexuality out,
She still drags you on like a toy.
You've fallen back into the routine of
Smoking the problems away,
Giggling as you make shit art,
Crying as you remember what it was like to be loved,
Back into the terror of middle school,
Where you lost all of your friends because of a child predator and his lies,
When the girl you helped fucked you over,
When you almost thought you'd die before your fifteenth birthday,
You never thought you'd see your sixteenth,
But there you are,
Crying on the bathroom floor because you lost your girlfriend to the boy who was the predator.
And now you're heartbroken again because a boy
Wanted you,
But not in the romantic sense,
Only to wet his dick,
And you cry again because the words ringing in your ears,
Said by him,
On your seventeenth birthday,
"I have had three failed relationships and one is sitting in front of me."
You were sitting in front of him.

Stop considering now,
And look at me.
Because all those scenarios,
All those awful things,
Go through my head everyday.
Because they happened to me.
Let's not forget that I have manic depression,
Anxiety,
Social anxiety,
And nothing to help this cause.

Quarantine doesn't help introverted little Esperanza.
She only considers it as another way
To being drowning in her thoughts once again.