I’ve become what I promised I’d never be.
My heart is dead with no soul left inside me.
I don’t enjoy what this life brings.
I don’t appreciate what has been given to me.

The colors all seem a little too dull.
These anti-depressants don’t work anymore.
I can’t seem to ever leave my house.
I can’t get off this ******* couch.

The therapy isn’t helping like it should.
I forgot what I was like when things were good.
I am watching my life pass me by,
and I’m too numb to even cry.

My teenage self would always say,
how do bitter people end up that way?  
But I’ve built these walls to protect myself,
and now I’m stuck in a prison cell.