Problems

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I see that everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

How am I supposed to feel sympathetically,

When I’m involved with a blinding,

Overwhelming consistency,

Of underwhelming contingencies.

Oh it’s easy, “get therapy”,

As if paying for help is worth more than a friend who will listen for free.

Who the hell wants to listen to me,

Everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

I try to imagine my mind living happily,

But it’s just stays still in progression,

And runs wild through regressions.

So what’s the point in another session,

If I will have nothing to mention.

Everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

I can’t make every conversation about me,

Everyone has an issue to share,

Or a memory to bear,

And in those moments we truly can care.

Yet it’s the time spent alone,

That makes life feel completely unfair.

If only we had a way to feel a little less scared.

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SF – written on Dec. 18th, 2018 @ 4:30 p.m.