Hoarder:

I'm drowning in this rubble
What my life has accumulated,
My world is closing in
And I feel so isolated.

I'm holding to a lot of junk
That has no monetary worth,
I'm trapped within its clutter
My so called hell on earth.

My surroundings are tightly squeezed
There's hardly room to maintain,
And I can barely bear the weight
From all of its emotional strain.

My possessions will be the death of me
For my physical health is stressed,
Still I'm having difficulty discarding
Or minimizing any of my mess.

I'm a prisoner in my own palace
Rotting away but not prepared to die,
But I know that will immediately happen
The second I start to cry.

For I'm a hoarder of my own tears
That's been building up over the years,
Still I'd rather hold on to my debris
Than to dare set it free.

For I'd rather waller in self pity
Than vacate all my pains,
Because its healthier to collect the hurt
Than to throw it out and go insane.