A broken mind

These thoughts, this struggle, the reason I exist, trying to survive in a world so cold, a world that doesnt want us around anymore. On the verge of destruction with a paranoia. I had been destroying myself from the inside out with what if's. Maybe had I been home the break in would've been avoided. There I stood, a scholded child twisted with shock that the nicest people get ripped off by the scum of the streets. Sometimes I feel like I got to get a gun and take care of things my own way, since the police only seem to make matters worse. Maybe this isn't what I want, or maybe being a recovering alcoholic blinded me from the truth of how pathetic my life truly is. If I pick up another bottle, I wouldnt cease til the next.