Everyone says I should love myself
But they don't realize this life I call hell
I'm supposedly part of West Medford's ghetto
I don't think of it that way
I've lived in it my whole life
I didn't even have the thought to ever cry
People would tell me not to be weak
Not to cry, keep an eye open when you sleep
My grandpa died and everything went down
I hated my life
I learned how to cry
And my daddy saw
How bad I wanted to die
We didn't do anything
Until I was 13
Now I love my life, most of the time
I think about my Great Gramma and I have those bad thought
She died while I was in treatment
I still can't believe it
I didn't talk to her before she died
I feel so bad for all the lies
I just lay there and cut and cry
I'm trying so hard
I even stopped cutting
But it's getting bad when I don't have anyone with me!