people are like parasites
we leech onto others when we're broken in an attempt to heal ourselves
but the thing is, nobody ever takes into consideration how the host feels
they say the parasites are the broken ones, drowning in depression and anxiety
their minds, a crowded menagerie of thoughts and suicidal tendencies
can someone fix them?
of course, what are friends for?
a communal therapist among those people who call me their friend
only when they are in need of one
but I can't handle what's going on inside my own head, let alone yours
and yet I tell you it's fine, it's alright, I'm here for you
but will you be here for me?
were you ever here for me?
no. Because that's what parasites do
and now I'm left here alone; broken; numb
because a healer is all I'll ever be
