I'm so tired of this two step forward one step backwards ******* that my life has become.
This therapeutic **** up, where I glance between monitors carefully scouring the land.
Punching my therapist in the face before I've even met them, I'm sure my life had a direction at some point.
Now I seem to dance in the moonlight of substance abuse and alcoholism,
But trying to make sense of it all in my mind is the most difficult of all.

Add fuel to the fire and punch a ******* baby for crying, this is the only life you have so do what you want.
Is it possible, do you think, to dance in the shadows of a mountain and think you're in the sun?
Do I love him? Am I ready for that kind of a maze?
Because perhaps I've cleared the fog from inside my mind just a tiny bit and bitten down into my ****** up past, just enough to taste the bitter sweet fuckery that scars my wrists.
Well perhaps this is living, but I've not been this suicidal in years.
So perhaps then, I'm still just as lost as Ive always thought I was.