So its come to this...
Where sorrow consumes you.
Cripples you, paralyzes you.
I knew I wasn't ok, but I thought I was fine.

My pain mocks me. I thought I was strong but I am weak.

So its comes to this, forced to talk to a therapist. Family & friends all worried, and even in the midst, I keep telling them I'll be just fine. Do I believe that? Well that's something I never said.


So its come to this, so here I sit, in this big *** chair of therapy.
Unwilling to dissect the things I've kept... Hidden deep, for no one to see.

But I guess I'm no good....
At hiding what's got me crippled inside.

My mom says my eyes are no longer a hazel brown, they've become a murky brown.
She says my pain causes her pain.

So here I sit in this room alone with this therapist. Because I love my mother and its not in my heart to ever cause her pain.


So brace myself, I begin, for the not ready, the unwilling, to rip open my heart and show you all the black fragments of pain that lives inside.