Secondary thoughts from the present
My life isn't all that pleasant
Pills, doctors and self-analysis
Honestly, can seem like paralysis

Thinking about my growth
My need to continuously provoke
A freedom from the oath
That ego that I stroke
A need to be better than both

The illiness and the routine
I was only a teen
I've fled from the scene
Can I wipe my slate clean?

I heard a whisper at thirteen,
It told me to die.
I heard a thunder at fifteen,
It told me to hurt myself.
I heard lightning at seventeen,
It told me it was over.

I crave eye contact
Because at least I know if you lie
You lie to my face

Look at me
Answer me
Let me know I'm alive

I want to know which of us is dead
Is it both?
When do we depart?
Your world and mine

Neither of us knows how to be free