I was in a psychiatric hospital when I was 17, I swallowed a bottle of pills
I get there, I realize, i'm the least ****** up one
I'm the loser, at the mental hospital
          (Or are we all equally ******? Do we have the same manifestation, the same disease?)

Destruction's the name of the game, and here, we all seem to be winning

Beth cries all day because she thinks her mothers dead
     although she calls her every morning and before bed
Destiny kicked her mom unconscious, she's only ten
      who knows what her destiny will become
Ryan is eight, he crashed the car, broke the windows, lit a match

And Ariel is only fourteen, but this is the fifth time she's been in here!
  She swallowed a bottle of pills, five times.
      Her liver, is it stable?
        (She got out three days after me, overdosed again. This time it was fatal.)

And Alex took a gun to his head. Almost pulled the trigger.
       Jenna cooked a little too much, shot the needle to far in her dying vein

It seems like suicides the latest trend
Everyone wants a taste
Of the crazy, the ******; the broken

We're like animals in a zoo, the doctors stop and stare
          Examining our behavior, researching warped minds

But we're not animals, your pills cannot cure us!
      Mother, why don't you hold my hand anymore? Are you afraid i'll grasp too tight?
  Afraid you'll let go too soon?

I have borderline personality disorder. My doctor told me. I take pills
They **** me up, I don't know who I was before them
But I wish i could meet her
         Wish i could see the things she sees, know once again what it's like to feel overwhelmed
With happiness. sadness. Anything really would be nice.

         When my grandmother died, I didn't cry.
I didn't have sorrow.
I don't have the same empathy I used to
       But all my parents see is that I don't have the same pain I used to
They think i'm better
I'm not better i'm just numb!

All the pills in the world couldn't heal my yearn for destruction
Of anything really, preferably myself

I am attracted to cigarettes. Drugs. *****, bones. ***.
   Flowers don't suit my needs, unless they can be crushed and snorted
Butterfly's are ******, they don't even bleed red!
     And my medication can't make me happy, if it doesn't make me high!

My head has become hell a razor the only release.
   It helps me feel. Helps me know I'm real.

I know it's all in my head.
I know this thirst for danger is artificial
  Because when I faced death, I saw his face.
I looked him in the eyes
And i called for my mother told her I've done something terrible!

    I backed down to what I've always wanted and that's how I know
My pain  is not real