I wish I didn’t have to,
But I wish that I could prove
I’m not some social label
You can just stick on,
Or simply remove.

Don’t you see?
My diagnosis isn’t me.

I’m not pills inside a bottle
Or high upon a shelf.
I never hurt nobody,
I would rather hurt myself.

No one understands me,
But that’s no big surprise.
Claiming to know someone’s soul
Is only telling lies

True, it isn’t easy,
Sometimes it’s bloody tough,
You have dig below the surface
To find diamonds in the rough.

I’m so exquisitely fucked up, it’s true.
But probably no more than you.

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