Racing Mind

And the problem is, as has always been true,

The problem is you.

By that I mean me, that's just my internal narrative

They fight a lot and shout a lot

Like to bitchy sorority sister

That's not a good analogy

We don't have sororities in England.

We just get pissed on our own;

In our own beds alone.

We fight our friends because at the end of the day;

They’re bitches too.

And why wasn't I invited?

Do I have a right to be angry?

Do I have a right to be upset and offended?

They've known each other longer, I know.

And I'm a latecomer to the group I know.

But why?

We've been out, it's not like we're strangers.

So it must just mean that I'm the problem.

I'm annoying I know,

I wake up in trouble too much I know.

And I know I over-share my shit.

So I must be the problem;

And the fault is not on you if I'm the problem.

And if I'm the problem, I hate who I am.

I despise my body, my flesh, my mind.

But I'm trying not to do that anymore

So the blames on you; but not really.