Need to make phone calls plan it all out
Pay the bills, stuff self doubt
Try harder
Not to be so hard on me

Can you get coffee, I’m running late
Dirty dishes, disassociate
It gets harder
I’d rather be an amputee

Got to fix the problems I know aren’t mine
Doctors appointments, dollar signs
I’ll be a martyr
If it makes you proud of me

I need help, there’s not enough time
It’s hard to ask, just read my mind
Things back in order
Need a break from reality
-
I have a tendency
To make my therapist cry
Sometimes I feel the empathy
Sometimes it feels like bullshit
It’s probably all bullshit
-
I miss my friends and to much wine
Now just city planners, the bottom line
In retrospect
This ain’t how you succeed

Everything’s a mess, can’t concentrate
Words are hard, self medicate
Cause & effect
Maybe I can finally breathe

Does it all point back to a little girl
Attachment figures, weight of the world
If I’m perfect
Everyone will be appeased

A few hours past bedtime
Body pain, books that rhyme
Time to connect
Something I believe
-
I have a tendency
To make my therapist cry
Sometimes I feel the empathy
Sometimes it feels like bullshit
It’s probably all bullshit

Incidentally
I’ve been known to change my mind
Maybe I’m done with pleasantries
Maybe I’m just losing it
It’s probably all bullshit