I'm already crazy, baby
So I'm not sure where to go from here
My mind's already split in two
And the voices haunt my ears

Can you love someone like me
whose brain is just a wheel?
A little mouse runs round and round to tell me how I feel

And when he's hungry, he just chews up all my pleasant thoughts
And leaves me with the ugly ones as my head slowly rots

I know I'm crazy, baby
but isn't that the fun?
Don't you love it when I'm angry and I let my mouth just run?

But when my mousey dies and the wheel will not turn
I'll finally stop writing and my past pages will burn

I know you are reading this
Either in spite or in awe
But breathe these words from my lips
This is not just your war
Poems upon poems
Blood upon wrists
Depression it moans
It puts us in fits
Take your pen my fellow soldier
Press the ink, take a hit
This war is soon over
Writing heals, you are worth more than this

You've got compassion for sick twisted defeated chicks. I like your style.