Used to lie to friends,
Say I was millionaire,
That I was daddy’s trust fund baby,
Living without a care.

The truth was, in practice,
Hard to bear.
The plain fact was
I just wanted up and out of there
No more
Always living on the brink,
No more
A scared, scarred broken link,
No more
Downward sinking, screaming someone save me, please!
No more
There goes another half my soul this week.

My mind was a dark lair of horrid wares,
So trust when I say
I was as disfigured inside as out.
And, now, I’m not so sure,
Now
Have things come to  a turnaround?
Now
that I’ve found my two hearts.
Now
I have both my true love and writing.
So how
Do I still feel the noose there,
And how come
It won’t stop tightening?