Head

The people in my head

Tell me to get out of bed.

They tell me to stop moping.

But I'm not sad, I'm hoping.

Hoping for someone to lend me a hand

Because sometimes getting out of bed is taking a stand.

The people in my brain

Offer me quick fixes to ease the pain.

They give me cheap advice

And they use my weakness to grab me in their vice.

Some days, I like to pretend they're evil.

But they're really not. They're just people.

People inside my head.

I guess that's just the way I was bred.

With cracks in the walls,

Red paint dripping in the halls.

Wait no; that's skin and blood.

Now here comes the flood.

People get so angry at me just for bleeding

It's not my fault that pain I'm needing.

I keep waiting for an end.

But that's not real, it's just pretend.

There's no end to this trail of red

Not even when I'm dead.