The Monster

You know you're doomed 

When its 2.30 and you're locked up in your room,

Everything you feel, you see appears to zoom

Because they're the past memories you forgot to broom.

The headphones are playing the music too loud,

But you can't hear it because of the screams you've allowed.

First they look fluffy and soft as a cloud, 

But in reality, it's the scary stuff wrapped in a shroud.

In the beginning, it starts to feel good

As I'm living near a lake in the house made of wood

But it's an addiction that I've misunderstood,

It's the wolf dressed as the little red riding hood!

It's not depression it's just plain overthinking,

I'm not mad but it feels like I'm sinking,

Engulfs and spits me out as fast as I'm blinking.

Y'all think probably it's a problem of drinking.

But I don't drink, I hate alcohol

And I follow my familial protocol

But I hate everything else too no matter big or small,

That hatred is the real monster, out of the bed that had to crawl.