1
Every time I rip myself open to unearth my forgotten humanity
I accidentally allow sticky hands to reach
Into the weary caverns of my rib cage
Where they’ll pick apart the sore softness of my heart
Until it’s too bruised to be beautiful

2
She says it’s as easy as happy thoughts, as “positivity”
So easy that sunshine and rainbow sparkling can prevent
Deep-seated illnesses that plague the depths of a mind
Like maybe, really, anxiety and mood disorders are easily temporary
And I’m just not doing it right

3
I create an enemy of everyone who tries to help me
And weaponize their kindness into some sort of double-edged sword
Because nothing good comes without a cost
Or because my manipulated heart is far too vulnerable