The things I've done to stay alive,
many disbelieve.
I want the whole world to know
my story,
but I can't speak it.
Don't speak,
don't feel,
don't trust.
That is the motto
of the dysfunctional family.

Upper-middle class,
but still hungry,
still afraid of the dark,
still cowering in a closet.
We've all got problems.
Somehow, we survive.

When I drink,
I cry.
That's what it means to relax.
To let my guard down
is to finally weep.
Everything has changed
but I'm still fighting the same battle,
still fighting the same demons.