I don’t stop
When I cop
All this rock
In my hand
Or I chill
With a pill
And I’m
Noddin again
All this ****
I agree
Is my way to get by
And the molly
Good golly
Helps me Find
Reasons why
LSD
***
Now I’m in
Outer space
Then a shot
Watch the clock
Always loosing
The race
All this ***
A new Ex
And I don’t
Really care
Life in hell
My own cell
And I don’t
Think it’s fair
As I walk through
This storm
And I scream
Out in pain
Like a weight
Pushin down
Someone else
In my brain
Always holdin
Me back
Whispers that
I’m insane
Never up
Always down
Like I’m playin
A game
With the odds
And the scales
Tippin further
Away
Still I walk
And I talk
Like I think
That I know
But I’m really
As blind
As a fool
In the snow

I have a confession
It's called an obsession.
A preoccupation
With my aggression
I feel it building
Like Lego for adults
Doctors say it's part
and parcel of my
Depression.
If that's the case then
All serial killers
and not nice people
are just depressed.
Not obsessed with hurt
or pain or emotion.
Just a little down
Take a pill
Chill.
Don't ****
Don't obsess
You're just depressed.