Mother says that she hates when I'm alone and how she doesn't want me to be lonely But mother don't you know I'm never alone? I'm always in the presence of depression and anxiety They're always there, hiding under the bed, inching around the corner waiting for me, Listening to every thought that comes through my head, Making sure those thoughts aren't good ones And never allow me to forget that minor thing that I did 6 years ago Or forget what you said to me drunk last night Or how you're the one who I'm afraid of seeing under the bed, Because no longer am I afraid of monsters or the boogie man, I am afraid of the fact that you my mother is a drunk and will never get better So you tell me mother Am I still alone and lonely when you leave? Because all I know is your sober self leaves the trace of your drunk self at my feet, crawling at me, never letting me be free of what I really want and what I really love, and what I love isn't that drunk, nor is it myself, it's being completely alone, Without the presence of you, of depression, anxiety, and of the demons hiding inside me.