My skull cracked open
is a messy endeavor.

Everything makes its twisted sense.
You poke at the laziness,
you poke at my refusal to work,
and you stumble upon
the fear of criticism,
poke that and you find the narcissism,
you poke at the narcissism
and you find the screeching fear,
that I'll never be enough unless perfect,
poke at the fears and it will make me scream.
Make me scream
and my skull will crack wider.