i told my therapist about you, while your lips were still slathered alllll over my body. i showed her the places we had been, and all the things we had seen. i told her what lies underneath that pretty pretty skin of yours, and i told her how i knew. i spelt out your name as she scribbled it on her cute little clipboard, i told her about the first night and the second and the fourth and that time in the closet. i told her everything, i really just wanted to get you out of my brain, it didn't matter if saying these things put me in sososo much pain. because you've moved on so why can't i? i told my therapist about you, but i still can't tell you goodbye. i know i'm s t u p i d, for holding on this l o n g, i know it's useless, for wishing you weren't gone. but my words carry on like a heartbeat s l o w steady fast u s e d n t a y i keep keep keep breaking and breaking and breaking and i told my therapist about you.
i think part of the reason why we hold onto something so tight is because we fear something that great will never ever happen twice
Sadness isn’t a sickness but I think I’m coming down. Doctor, doctor I no longer want to be around. All that I seem to do is constantly breakdown. Doctor, doctor I think it’s time for me to go. Cancel my next appointment, I won’t be here tomorrow. Doctor, doctor you say that sadness is in fact a sickness, yet you aren’t advising me on how to fix this.
My councillor told me to put my hand up more in class Since I usually know the answers to the questions but I'd rather relax cause people don't judge you until you bring your existence to their attention , I tried to explain this to her but she just got the wrong impression . I know if I went back to one of those sessions I'd probably start *******' As she made it out like my problems and all were completely ridden . But identifying the disorder didn't drive any of it away I'm too busy not thinking about tommorow, caught up in yesterday, Life's a game That I'd rather not play Because my predicaments are that I'm gonna lose , So I'll hide away Not here to stay My hand will not rise , I'll fall silent and leave the room .
Therapy. You've made me a walking travesty. Always trying to trawl me treacherous. My mind treadling to trench my trifling thoughts. Only trickling off from the tip of my tongue, As you're trolling my troublous trigger, You're no friend to me. You're only therapy.