Clinically depressed the clinic's a frickin mess clinician's under stress popping patients' cipralex at her dinky off-white desk still wearing last night's dress reminiscing on the days when she just tried her best
Head won't give it a rest wishing she'd failed the test could have been an insta queen at least got in on the tiktok scene instead she feels bereft of the chance to take a breath
She'd rather take a slap than see another fat smackhead but she has to pay the rent or start living in a tent "It's a living" that's her mantra written on the pens and every one they send is another couple cents
So she just pretends that what she does makes sense punters in prescriptions out no time to make amends patience measured in pence she can potentially spend perpetuating searches for that promised happy end
"something kind of sad about the way that things have come to be"