sdfghjkjhgfx

everybody grows up broken, battered and bruised;
if not outright abused, then cut, cross and confused -
all reaching for ideals that don't fit with the model,
and learning early on: the cure comes in a bottle,

and my problem was not knowing what the problem was -
courting chaos 'cause that's what a lack of chemicals does.
took me ages to accept that this was not my fault;
the many stages through which i guess i'm now an adult -

not that i know any more, not that i feel any less -
not that i'm angrier or even more happy at best.
but i've got a prescription, which makes it not an addiction, right?
yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.

take me off the pills - take me off the 8-a-day, straight-away,
chase-with-water, like-you-oughtta-act and i am not okay.
i don't know how to speak without spite, feel like i might
hurt somebody, man, why didn't god make me right?

and i ain't religious, 'cause i always grew up being told
that what you do when you're young is what you are when you're old.
well, i've attempted suicide twice, so that's nice -
guess what i'm gonna get is not dead yet.

what the fuck is the matter with me, why can't i see straight,
why can't i just be someone not filled with hate -
too late to rock myself to sleep and try again tomorrow;
got to borrow some seratonin to help ward off the sorrow.

 jhfghdsgh will continue later or not idgaf