everytime i walk by my own reflection
i see no more than a corpse, white face
messy hair and thoughts of desperation.
sometimes my head hurts and i smile
and i say "if that was the only thing i worried about".
but anytime a friendly hand comes and tries
to take me back from where i once was
(and where i am now) i'll push it hard
so it doesn't come with a body and eyes
that see the full state of me right now.
there's no time nor place for me to be,
or so it seems. because when i'm alright
something inside tells me to move
and go and be in somewhere else
and "i'll be fine" i say "i guess",
but then i'm not.
