I reflect negativity as a mind designed by apathy
Depression is a barren landscape
Dry and uncomfortable, drowning in arid desert storms
I am filled to the brim with the need to release
But was never quite able to get it to come
Crying and shaking or swaying and sighing
Words are a curse, it's too fast and too bright
Hospital rooms, doctors and meds
Did they give me something to make me forget?
Walls zooming by, vision's a blur
I don't really think I want to remember
I like the vantage point of this perspective
I wonder if they'll notice
Distract my attention, it's flying too fast
Forget sensitivity, switch up the format
I'm stretched on a bed but the body's not mine
The body's uncomfortable, doesn't fit right
Doesn't seem so symmetrical, outside the lines
Everything is uneven, it's hard to control
It forgets to breathe, and it freaked, then it froze
Are you making this up, are you sure it's a fact?
I'm remembering something, but is it correct?
When I died on the table, did I return in tact?
And when I close my eyes, will I ALWAYS come back?
I feel like the gospel has something to say
But I want to walk and create my own place
If I am some channel, why can't I just piss?
Why do uphill battles grapple my attention?
Why do I generalize and stay ambiguous?
Well, kids, I'm just not looking to get too personal
Metaphor used to work but I destroy myself over
A curse, and I would never wish that on anyone
Because I live through it every day
With no one here to reach for me
And if you thought for a moment your back was breaking
maybe try twisting your own spine like I have been doing
For years.
But the side effect is that I've twisted my mind
With body to bind
But I designed a disciplinary regiment intent to keep my ass in line.
It's a fragile balance, mental health
And I'm one or the other, or I'm both
I don't know.
I see your actions and I reflect your soul
Am I present, or no?
If it isn't mine, I have to let go.
But let's bring it back to the point that I had
About being uncomfortable in your own skin
Just own it and mold it the best that you can
Chances are I will never be healed
It's taken me years to accept what I see
This life gives us gifts back for what it has taken
I live in a body without working kidneys
[4] hours, three days a week, tethered to a machine
But for all of my struggles with positivity
My outlets keep me moving
These words are my gift, I accept to receive
As long as I always believe, I am free
And now you see me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
