Help me the drugs don't work my father touches me I am too fat powerless I incise my anorexic hunger with a martyr's red razor rewarding myself with a dopamine high mixed with pity and disgust so I can hide in the up and down never know my real reasons project my sadness onto others and take pills from psychiatrists who themselves believe the shallow island of chemicals is the solution and who work only to keep you sick when the sun is shining but you cannot see it because your frontal cortex says the sun is not shining when in fact it is.