I sold my soul for pocket change,
I thought it would make me happy.
I betrayed the ones who loved me,
I've always been against them.

I'm destructive to no end,
Drinking until I'm angry.
Gambling until I'm broke.
Screaming at friends until I'm lonely.

I push away anyone who wants to help me,
Their pity parties push down my pride.
Tears are my true friends,
Sore eyes and broken hearts are my allies.

I'd like to think I had a tragic backstory,
Something I could point to or blame.
Though I know the truth,
If my story had ever been tragic,
The problem began with me.