I was raised under scrutiny
where being yourself is a sin
Forced into chains
that I'm now desperate to break
They said I'm the problem
that I'm thinking too deep
I should be content with my days
then falling asleep
Some people have husbands
Some people have wives
I'm forever alone
clutching a knife
I'm in tethers of fear
Each day is the same
Perhaps a bit worse
as my body decays
The whip strikes my back
The drugs make me numb
I'm someone lost at sea
with no direction
This generational curse
I swore I would break
but the problem was always
inside my head
Can't even wake up
and make my own bed
I have no control
I wish I was dead
May 17
May 17, 2026 at 1:12 AM UTC
I was raised under scrutiny
where being yourself is a sin
Forced into chains
that I'm now desperate to break
They said I'm the problem
that I'm thinking too deep
I should be content with my days
then falling asleep
Some people have husbands
Some people have wives
I'm forever alone
clutching a knife
I'm in tethers of fear
Each day is the same
Perhaps a bit worse
as my body decays
The whip strikes my back
The drugs make me numb
I'm someone lost at sea
with no direction
This generational curse
I swore I would break
but the problem was always
inside my head
Can't even wake up
and make my own bed
I have no control
I wish I was dead
