At the age of twelve
She learned how to spell
Psychologist
And psychiatrist

It’s kinda sad
It’s kinda pathetic
That a twelve year old
Can spell psychiatrist

She brought her dead fish to the doctor
The doctor gave her a bandaid
With instructions to return
In just three "short" weeks

It's kinda sad
It's kinda pathetic
That three horrible, miserable weeks
Is considered "short"

She swallows milligrams
Every night
One after the other
After the other

It's kinda sad
It's kinda pathetic
That she must
Swallow that much

They tell her it's like diabetes
But treat her like she's neurotic

They tell her she's not crazy
But then pulls out the maybe

It funny how most people think
That months separate eleven and twelve
When she knows the barrier separates
Life from death

She’s perfect on the outside
And destroyed on the inside

She wishes she could hack
At her flesh
To destroy the outside
But she doesn't

She's jealous of the cutters
She's jealous of the outsiders
Being an insider is no fun
Being a fake outside perfection is not that great

She dreams of death
She thinks of pain
Her eyes flash coffins
Her mind throbs

She crawls into bed
And listens to suicide songs
She cries and cries
And sleeps and sleeps

She wouldn't do it
And she couldn't do it
But she thinks of what she’d write
“I love you” the most would suffice

No one ever says suicide
Not one person will speak it
They speak of "harming oneself"
Of overdosing oneself

If she had the courage
She'd climb the highest mountain
And she'd scream the word
So all could absorb

The end would be so easy
But she doesn't go there

They ask her all the time
She thinks it’s so funny
For if the end was here
She wouldn't break the secret

She's spinning and spinning
She's losing control
She's reaching for something
But can't grasp anything

She's twirling and twirling
She's gaining her will to go on
She's reaching for something
And grasping everything

She's bleeding
She's losing
She's screaming
She's giving up

She's smiling
She's winning
She's singing
She's finding hope

Death life
Pain fun
Despair hope
Lost found

Misery content
Hate love
Trapped freedom
Chaotic peace

She doesn't feel like anything
She feels like everything

If she's learned anything
In all these years
It’s that misery can last forever
And pain just doesn't melt away

If she's learned anything
In all these years
It’s that hope has a chance
And you can never stop looking.