Self-worth has its own afflictions.
But in the thick of it, you have no predictions,
About how it will affect your life.
Protests for progress,
Hours every day, no rest.
Stopping for a moment is all stress,
And all you are left with is strife.
You can’t guess what happens under a surgical knife.
You can’t guess what happens under the heat of the lights.
Why is there one choice in a life?
Friendless, all alone,
Where did it go, the path I was shown?
Why am I stuck, why can’t God hear my moans.
Why can’t I cry?
Study, work, and study,
Slapping your own face until it is bloody,
Redness until the outlines are all fuzzy,
Until late in the night.
Self harm to my health,
Restrictions like I’m hoarding my wealth,
Funny face is a cover for stealth,
No one will see what’s inside.
Cannot stop the car on road that is fueled by my pride.
Personality led by an adolescent guide,
What is real and what is a lie,
The road will blissfully end when I die.