There are things crawling inside my brain
And they have claws
I can feel them
Scraping
Scraping
Scraping
With their nails
And with their teeth
-Always pain-
I feel them crawling around
And all I want to do
Is tear at my skull
And get them out
I try
I try so hard
But never succeed
There are things crawling inside my brain
And I think they're driving me insane

If I get in the car
If I start driving
There's a distinct possibility
That I'll never stop

The urge to flee
Is haunting me
Fight or Flight?
Right?

I'm getting tired of fighting
Scratching, clawing, biting
Cause when I'm fighting myself
It doesn't ever help

Nothing helps
Nothing helps
Nothing helps

I self medicate by listening to old punk music
Maybe a little too loud
And throwing myself into my schoolwork
To feel some sense of accomplishment
By buying too many lipsticks
In the approximate same dark purple shade
And living inside of fantasy novels
And sometimes I self medicate
By hiding the empty bottles behind my bed
So I don't have to look at them
Because I know they didn't make anything better

I only feel alive
When I'm driving away from here.
How many miles
Can I cover in one night?
Probably not enough.
Maybe I'll drive until I hit water.
Maybe I won't stop.
I have this recurring nightmare
Of driving into the ocean.
It's not hard to figure out.
The ocean is the best analogy
For the unknown
That could probably exist.
It used to terrify me.
But
Everything that I know is here,
And I don't care for it much.
Maybe I should take my chances
With the ocean.