Its always a struggle
The drugs I need make me feel like shit
My thoughts are all clouded,
So I lash out because it helps a bit
No medication
I spiral deeper into grief and shame
Its my only freedom
Thats when all the bad thoughts come again
Swing them from the gallows
Bury them deep in a vacant lot
Im slow and methodical
Bind their mouths just to shut them up
Slice them open
Watching as their blood pools on the ground
Adrenaline flowing
Know higher rush is there to be found!
Bipolar is my nature
Stay away or it might be worse than you think
Id like a word with my creature
Cause the hand I was dealt here surely stinks.
I have tried suicide
But I cant find the method that will work.
