don't ask me how i am i don't like that ******* question
you wouldn't know what to answer, you'll think its an aggression
i know its easier to just say fine, i never learn my lesson
if i could skip out on all the small talk, that would be a ******* blessing

seventeen to eighteen weeks, i slip again into depression
stupid hard to even talk about, too hard to even mention
watch me sleep for thirty weeks, in an attempt to kick the tension
once again all in my head, a maze made of perception

staring into the ******* mirror, and i don't see my own reflection
these fractals all over my face, span out into sucession
if we go back to two years ago, would you call that a regression?
he asked for *** then ghosted, i lost all of my affection

was that last line a confession? i was supposed to keep discretion
what with him having a girl for three years at the time of the "exception"
phoning me after months of silence to set up a ******* session
maniac depressed and taking pills, does that worsen the transgression

did you know i wouldn't refuse and in fact wouldn't even question?
well they seem  pretty happy now, they can have my ******* blessing
ask for *** then ghost me, after twelve years of ******* friendship
everything is dancing and i dip my ******* pen tip

i don't have much of an incentive, to be ******* inauthentic
mostly i'm just trynna cope, so i segment it and dissect it
to trace over the wound, twelve years of something friendship
all things must end and die, i don't presume to prevent it