When I talk about my depression and anxiety
I pretend it’s not a part of me

There’s a person in my brain
Causing me to go insane

He makes me say mean things to myself
Placing my feelings in a box on the shelf

A box that I’m not allowed to touch
It’s filled with all the things I want so much

It’s filled with self love, faith, and hope
It’s taped up, wrapped up, and ******* with rope

The man inside my brain doesn’t have a name
Yet I’m so familiar with his wicked game

Sometimes he wins and I can’t get out of bed
Sometimes I win and I can rule my own head

Nobody understands and nobody will
I wish he didn’t exist still