Whispered conversations behind half closed doors,
They're talking about me, talking, more and more.

If only I didn't see the ceiling melting towards me,
Would they still me talking, about what I've come to be

It started as a child. Rush rush went my brain.
Spinning, dizzy, I knew early that I was insane.

And here it is. Endless white coats, long strip lights.
The darkness has taken my mind, why can't I fight?

Where do I begin and it leave off.
My coffin is beginning to nail.
I don't believe I'm even real.