She wakes up in the morning, undignified
The night before, she closed her eyes,
Hoping not to see light again
Wishing the future would all just end.
Apparently she's trash- been told that all her life
Burying her thoughts, layered with stress and strife
She goes unnamed because nobody asked
Wishing again she could change the past.
Throughout her life it's problem after another
Only true best friends being her dog and her brother
Even then, she was certain, they did not care
She was changing her clothes and fixing her hair.
The little girl with dolls and pink in her room
Changed into a teenager- the workings in bloom
Had to grow up too fast and learn way too much
She quivers at the thought of wanting to be touched.
Her mind has evolved into ways we cannot see
Feeling like unwanted is less than she wants to be.
She's expected to be great, given jobs, another goal
No longer independent, it begins to take a toll
Her style grows more darker, her music takes a blow
Poems, art, and music tell you more than she can show.
Imagine going swimming, strap some weights on to your thighs
Put cement blocks on your ankles, sink quicker than you realize
Carry the whole world on your shoulders
Weigh your arms down with some boulders.
Now imagine trekking to the deep and the water inching up
You're in the real world now, not swimming in the bath tub
And now you're there, eye level, staring at Death's door
Turn back around to see that there's people on the shore.
Yell and scream and shout and them, "Hey, come rescue me!"
Acknowledging your presence is all it'll ever be
They look you in the eye and turn around and laugh,
The water in your eyes is tears (at least, more than half).
Pulled farther into the ocean, crying- punch and kick
They've got to come and save you- it's just one cruel trick
But soon enough you get it, they're not coming anymore
They'll leave you standing on the porch and Death's door.
This metaphor is her own, a story that she told
And now we know she'll preach it until she's growing old
Right now she doesn't get it, no, she cannot truly see
She's stood at the porch for a while but never got the key.
Easily she'd go in, if she'd just search real quick
Barge in his door with one easy flick
Right here she is not ready, there's brightness up ahead
Slowly her arms are emptying less and less with lead.
Even when she was drowning and nobody helped her through
She swam back up to live it, to live for me and you
She swam back up for the future and artist or writer
She swam back up because up above,
instead of darkness- it was brighter.