You say I'll never understand
Because to you, I'm whole.
The thing is, I'm ahead of your game,
And I am in control.

The spiderwebs that fill my head,
The boiling blood of my brain,
Tell me all things I want
I'll never, ever obtain.

You think because I don't complain
I'm happy all the time.
To me that thought's ridiculous—
There's no reason to that rhyme.

My mind is a smoking circuit.
Death is a trending topic.
My mind is dark, my thoughts are too.
You're too blind to see— myopic.

Your simple, shortsightedness
Has all but proved my theory:
You only care for me when you've time,
You are tired of me, and grow weary.

So please, tell me I'm not broken,
Please, tell me I'm "too good."
When I roll my sleeves and lift my shirt,
You'll wish you'd understood.

And maybe you do, who am I to say?
What's to say you don't see it every day,
That my heart is worn, I'm giving out,
I need to yell, scream, and shout.

But I'm close to six feet under,
Digging my own grave bit by bit.
"It's okay to ask for help,"
I said. What a hypocrite.

So tell me I'm not damaged enough
To hear you talk of days you rue.
Maybe you're right all along,
But I'll still listen to you—

Unlike you.