You can do anything if you put your mind to it.
Anything if you put your mind to it.
The sky's the limit, the sky's the limit, the sky's the limit.
No. The roof of my skull is the limit.
The surface that the infinite raging thoughts lash out on.
The infinite scenarios in which everything goes wrong.
The infinite outcomes in which I fail.
I fail, I fail, I FAIL.
I should have been told I can’t do anything if I put my mind to it.
My mind is not a tool but a debilitator.
I don’t get to decide what happens to a thought I submerge in my brain.
They incarcerate it.
My intentions and attitude? That doesn't matter.
They feed their energy off of my roaming thoughts and become so overwhelmingly powerful,
they consume me as a whole.
I’m an animal, trapped in the zoo of which is my own body.
The glass walls of my exhibit, my eyes, through which I see the havoc my keepers wreck.
I become a puppet to their desires.
But the show must go on, I tell myself, the show must go on.
There’s people watching, staring, judging, whispering. But the show,
It must go on! Mustn't it?
Who is it for? What is the purpose?
Again thoughts swarm my head such as intrusive locusts on vulnerable vegetation,
Cut the strings, cut the strings, CUT THE STRINGS.
Then no one will have control.
Let the puppet fall,
Isn't that the only way free from the suffocating manipulation?
Most days that seems like the only way out.
The effort and exhaustion of trying to put up a fight drowns me.
Freedom slowly seems more and more distant, like something of the imagination.
On the outside, a barren stone cold statue.
But on the inside, I cry for help, I cry,
I cry, help, help, SOMEBODY HELP ME.
Crippled by my own brain, taken hostage by my own thoughts.
I’m not in control why can’t the audience see that?
You can look at me but I can’t see you,
I’m trapped under a blanket of darkness being forced on me.
A blanket thrown on me by society, friends, and so called loved ones.
A blanket under which they hide what they do not understand, what they cannot deal with, what they are scared of.
I’M SCARED TOO.
I do not get to throw a blanket on things I do not understand, on things I cannot deal with, on things THAT I AM TERRIFIED OF.
Because those are burrowed within my mind.
I’m waiting, I’m waiting, I’m waiting, I’m waiting.
Somebody take my hand, lift up the blanket, HELP, PULL ME OUT.
I’m lonely, confused, sad, weak, and fucking terrified.
I am so scared.
What little fight and energy I have left, withering away like a flower without sunshine.
Soon. Something with take my life.
Me or them.