Its been rough lately, real rough.
My head's been messy, real messy.
Swarming with thoughts of suicide and death.
Swarming like bees,
Each of their stingers drags a new slice into my thigh as I lay in my bathtub.

Its been rough lately, real rough.
My mind has been dark, real dark.
My chest seems to have trouble rising and falling as the wall of anxiety hits.
At this point I don't care if the next cycle of rising and falling is my last.

It's been rough lately, real rough
My brain has been, real sad.
My hands shake and twitch like my depression is trying to force them into doing something they shouldn't.
My body heaves with dry sobs.

I don't want to die but it wouldn't matter if I did.