A poem that says how she feels; Does anyone really know?

Bouncing off shit

At times my eyes want to weep and drown in their own deep stares.As I look in my mirror and stare the thoughts drive through my brain tissue and the wheels of my depression rip on the nerves all at once.

Hot pink,Fresh navy blue and Rouge red mix quickly like my mother's pounded
yam.
"Loan,credit card,uni results,are you a writer; no you're not,screw over, screw your self again, bad student, no companion, no life, shit job, do something, do something."
Do something.
Do something.
Done nothing.

Males of my dreams do not see me in theirs.I feel so doomed.
The forever unrequited, the eternal.Let me end this with salty son to follow.
My mind will swim in its musicIt will guide like it usually does; with its sense and instincts.
I'm listening to seeing sounds; no one knows how much its helping.

My eye is a brown golf ball,It swelled.
Good bye now,my coulour is fading into ashiness, good riddance to my red undertone...hello groggy grey.

Now I have awoken but hear my speech so I resume my sleep.