And they said maggots ate away the face and
I know what it feels like.

Hunting for my childhood trauma but my parents wore their rings and ate the cookies we left for Santa Claus and bought me a bike and a baby doll.
Hunting for my psychological disorder but I never wanted to hurt myself and I never took pills and my cat scan came out abominably normal.
Hunting for a flow for things but it doesn’t
match
up-
I’m manufactured to be happy.

And he keeps picking picking picking picking
at my flesh

And they said it’s not your fault but they have degrees on their wall that say Harvard told them to say that and they don’t know that I had a choice.
And they said there’s something wrong if you can’t leave and they said it’s wrong to be alone
And I said make up your mind.
And I said don’t victim me; I am a product of my own destruction.

And they keep picking picking picking picking
at my flesh.

And when the chandelier swings we feel our hearts sway
To almost die is to decide to die a different day
And the slashes will have the final say
But I can never be done.

And we keep picking picking picking picking picking
at my flesh.
I thought that’s what love feels like.