My head hangs low as I walk through the crowd.
Everything is quiet…
But my thoughts are loud.
I try not to cry,
To keep my head held high.
But there are obstacles in my way, goals set to high.
I want to run away, so I resort to sleeping, cutting the pain away, and getting high.
I know you don’t understand my reasons why.
Someday, my day will come.
But for now I’d rather be numb.
So numb, I have no pain or fear.
So numb, I don’t feel…
The backstabbing or the pain in my heart.
So I don’t feel the shame of me being this way.
As I walk through the crowd with my head down,
I know that my outcome of being an outcast is...
Over dramatic, over ecstatic.
My depression is true.
Who can help me through?