I think I am
going to **** myself.
Maybe not today,
or next week,
or even next year.
But I can feel it.
I will end my life,
on my own terms

One year ago exactly,
In the moment I relapsed faster
Than how fast I was running from myself.

It had been about a year too
Before I closed the door on
Hoping to have grown.

I was sent away
And blamed for that.
They said "You said the right things
And did this on purpose"
Well I can't say I did that,
But I can say I finally opened up
And asked for help
And this is what I got for that.

Now everytime I smell
The smell of tide detergent
And see that color green
On the meridian scrubs
I flinch and stop breathing.

I wish I never opened up,
I wish I never asked for help
Cause now the shackles on my brain are getting heavier in that section.

But it showed me a new perspective,
Didn't get the help I was wishing for
But I grew older, wiser, and nicer.
Now I'm a fighter for the kids like me
So I guess I have grown a little.

The tick of toothed gear
Gives handfuls of a surprise
Mike & Ike tasters.

someone asked me recently if
I was happy
I said that I was
maybe not all the time, but life is good,
and this time I really meant it

if you had asked me a year ago I would have said
that I don't think I'd ever be happy again
I was so low it felt like I was buried
and I meant it

funny what a difference time makes
how in a year, you can be a whole new person