Diagnoses

Neon sleepless nights ache like dry cough. 

Caught amidst wanting to pour all out
Or just give up and sleep.
Its always a question of little more,
Little more of soul-sucking harpies,
called social apps. 
Tides of anxieties rise and settle down
And winds of depression blows to and fro,
Anxious to create artificial you, perfect you
For the world to like and comment.
Bouts of depression take over, lil by lil
When everyday you fail
To tick those little boxes
You created in your head.
And in this cycle of endless nights
The sun never rises.
But who needs sun
When you have Neon sleepless nights.