Sick

39 21 1
                                    

How can anyone talk about potential that isn't in me?
Feel like I'm stooping lower and lower and no one will help me,
I look in the mirror everyday and see I'm not enough,
Force myself through each day but they're all so tough,
Is this what I'm born to be? A mistake and just a burden?
It's kinda funny how people leave when you're hurting,
Or maybe I deserve it a bit,
Either way I can't see the point of it.

I'm sick of the way people try and play me,
Sick of how when things go wrong they blame me,
Sick of people being sick of my face,
Sick of being hated in every place,
It kinda gets to me sometimes,
How I fail to express it all even in rhymes,
It hurts me all the time,
I just can't express how I feel inside.

I don't own my soul I just use it to write verses,
I've put myself and its respect in two different hearses,
I've been hit by a million different curses,
"Avada Kedavra" hit me and I didn't have to see no nurses,
I use my eyes but I see no aces,
Already been part of fifteen chases,
I've been going to hell and seen 25 places,
I'm hoping for someone to erase us.

I was listening to "Mirror" and it hit the spot,
We all pretend we're okay but deep inside we're not,
It's still an act we put up cause of the bravado we got,
But in the pits of our stomachs you feel it knot,
When it comes down to it there's no other form of expression,
The shit comes out as hateful aggression,
We hold our feelings back like it's the Great Depression,
Back in 1929 cause we ain't got a therapy session.

SUNDOWNWhere stories live. Discover now