It's intriguing to see the things people go to, just to get out of their minds for a little while.
You pop pills, I turn my music up.
You scream at me, I cut. Deep.
You flip your ****, I go mute.
But you don't understand.
I do this... to stay alive. To be sane.
To be able to put up with your ******* each and every single ******* day.
but you yell at me, when I listen to music.
You ask why I'm upset at family outings, because I don't have my music.
You basically took my ******* lifeline.
So don't you dare ask me, "oh what's wrong dear? just because you're upset doesn't mean you have to take it out on us..."
You can royally go **** yourself.
You're one reason I need my music. Why I ignore the world.
You don't understand, that I need it. You say you know.
You don't.
You won't.
Because
              you
                     don't
                
                                                         care.