Maybe PT. 2

Maybe, I'm the problem,

Maybe because I became attached, I started to hit rock bottom when things don't go my way, or maybe I just don't want to feel alone when your name doesn't pop up on my phone.

Maybe, I need my loneliness to be occupied by friends, but why use them just to fill the emptiness of temporary loose ends?

Maybe, maybe I'm the issue,

Maybe I'm the issue, because my emotions are scattered everywhere, like when my tears are uncontrollable, collected by scattered tissues.

When I thought I had everything figured out, my figuring out became false, and I know I'm not perfect, but I'm developing problems after problems, and I'm starting to get lost,

Maybe, my break wasn't long enough, or maybe my life is just naturally rough, though I know life isn't easy, but fresh air is even hard to get down naturally now, my lungs have become so wheezy.

They say I'm strong, but how can strong hold on for long if everything keeps going wrong;

Maybe, I need to edit the melody of my song; change the words to phrase a different meaning, or maybe I need to cut lines that are intervening.

Maybe, I'm just too damn sensitive.

Maybe, I take things higher than it is intensive.

Maybe, I'm the problem.

Maybe because I became clingy, my moods have become swingy.

I need to figure out why what's bothering me is so bothering, because I'm driving myself crazy, making my emotions lazy and I become emotionless.

Even now, I'm surprised this poem even makes sense, because my emotions are lessening.

Maybe, I'm the bothering, that's bothering me.

Maybe, I'm the problem.