Pathologically sarcastic

This poem is about a hard time that I was having not too long ago. I've been fighting a battle in my life for a while now and I need an outlet to express that.

20 minute TD hold has got me searching in frustration.
For a larger inconvenience was resolved in conversation.
Fill me up with hesitation
Lay me down in satisfaction.
Coalitions empty threatenings got me wanting to read captions
I'm on fire, I'm what's happening.
Who let Michael Myers in?
I'm only 23 years old. I have no gut or double chin.
I'm pathologically sarcastic.
I'm brand new so where's the plastic?
Trying to write me down a classic.
I'm just distracted by this graphic pornographic film that's addicting and slightly biographic.
If the blanket that's the sky misbehaves and went awry
Let the stars in in a blinking succession of overthinking.
Would you gladly be consumed by the glowing of the Moon and ask yourself what is the difference between caring and indifference.
I have never felt more homeless than I feel today.
If the orb that is the moon drifted closer to you?
Would you allow it to edge on making toasts for you?
Gladly, I would make a toast before roasting for you.
Got to keep my wits and fluids staying focus for you.
Black stash, backwash, bare legs, b train. Gold hair, red lips, yank cap, green eggs, yorkies, black girls, camos, new york, afros, and country, last call, you dork.