Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move. Awake but cannot open my eyes and the weight is crushing down on my lungs. I know I can’t breathe and hope someone will save me this time. And your mother’s still callin you insane and high. Swearin it’s different this time and you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her. That god never blessed her insides. Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things. Crawl back into bed to dream of a time when your heart was open wide and you love things just because, like the sick and dying.
And sometimes you’re really fuckin on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme, that the good seems fuckin cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence but you’ll fight and you’ll make it through. You’ll fake it if you have to and you’ll show up for work with a smile
You’ll be better
And You’ll be smarter
And More grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you’ll be awake
You’ll be alert
You’ll be positive though it hurts
And you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends
And you’ll be a real good listener
You’ll be honest
You’ll be brave
You’ll be handsome and you’ll be beautiful
You’ll be happy
