I'm feeling sick to my stomach.
No music, no words are healing this hurt.
Through my things I rummage.
Maybe I won't make it home for court.
Its killing me to say that I'm OK. (Yeah I'm so fucking great.)
Its haunting me trying to find ways
to love myself even when I'm in the worst shape.
I've lost important ones to me,
just from "spilling the beans".
I've fell in love, but he became a beast.
I've lost friends because I appeared to be weak.
But that's fine.
So it seems ...