I make my own hell
But instead of being near the ground, it's in the sky
Some times I love it for what it can tell
Yet other times it might cause me to cry
Help was given than taken away
Because that thing floating in the heavens
Is trying so hard to get everything inside itself at bay
My sanity could be lost because of what happens at seven
I don't believe I ever truly thought, sadly, I was going to leave these kind of things behind. I don't plan on getting help, even though I should. Why does my brain work like this? Why do I work like this ? I should be able to function normally, with normal situations, but it all turns to **** it seems. I am so very confused.