To you, I am a label,|
Something that you can tuck away and put on a shelf
According to my "TYPE."
You are wrong and because of your altered reality,
I am drowning in your accusations of
"Why can''t you just be normal?"
Sorry, but no amount of therapy or pills
Will ever save or cure me.
I am screaming, but you don''t hear me.
I am reaching out, but you don''t feel me.
If I hung from the ceiling fan,
Would you see me?
"Explain yourself", you say to me.
YOU take a crack at it.
I think I am like falling in love - hard.
The peak is terrifyingly electric.
Then I hit rock bottom, not caring if I get back up,
Because I don''t have that choice.
Explain me, as in the logical explanation of me.
I am a pill stuffed guinea pig with nothing to lose
Except my sanity.
Explain me! Then maybe I can find who I am,
Not just what I am....