choking on the words that wouldn't let you be.
everyone tried to show you, even me.

biting your fingers and twisting your hair,
it wont make it easier.
not one bit, i swear.

stubborn, even stuck.
do you ever wonder whats with your twisted luck?

reaching out for a helping hand,
you're down on your knees.
the pressure wont let you stand.

your chest tightens and you begin to lose the ability to see.
you think to yourself "i can't be okay, this isn't me".  

you long for that pill,
it makes you feel alright.
it gives you the guts to walk alone at night.

the man made medicine floats through the veins in your skin.
the excruciating experience is just about over.
so when your tongue unties and you can focus,
just promise me one thing.

promise me it wont take you,
promise you wont let it win.

*-dh