The first peom I have posted here
 

Dealing with existence
Requires more persistence,
Perhaps some assistance,
More than I have left in me
My mind decaying and emitting debris.
What is my mental half life?
Is there anything that could lesson my mental strife?
for now the poems flow, the decaying slows
Am I better? Who knows?
I think social interactions pain me most,
Inside I am praying to become a ghost,
more gentle and less engrossed.
Sadness decay triggers the production of radical thought.
Why can’t happiness be taught?
Although would anyone be truly distraught?
These can be annihilated by radical actions.
I wonder if neutrality could be achieved through this reaction
but I should remember two negatives lack attraction.
Why are my thoughts so corrosive?
implosions rather than explosive.
I feel I should express
But what have I left to confess?