Looking back at old messages of people who were there for you

Looking back and seeing yourself throw away a friend or two

Looking back to realise the friendships that you cut through

were the best times of your life, and now look at what it's come to.

 

You’re doing it again, repeating history, but why?

You’re only hurting yourself, it's a mystery, and you’re a nice guy

Your friends are nearby, go and pacify this feeling fleetly

before it amplifies and occupies, takes over you completely.

 

Question, rhetorical: Do you really think this is beneficial?

You’re cutting with no knife, such a loss of a precious chance at life

You say you're broken but don’t care to make things official

Just go see a therapist, idiot, fucking lowlife.

 

They are sneering, you're disappearing, no longer persevering,

never feeling like you're doing the right thing.

The phone rings, it’s the friends from your last down-swing

but you have deaf ears, and don't feel like hearing.

 

No wonder with all these switched off senses you fail to see and listen

that it’s an addiction with no reasoning, it’s treason against your own ambition

No recognition of your social malnutrition, "it's a superstition"

failure to understand your total mental decomposition.

 

Lying is second nature now, truth telling begets hate somehow

You're hated but it's complicated, you're so frustrated that they can’t relate

It’s an invisible disability, it's a clinical mental immobility

but to them it's a pitiful fallibility, an unequivocal liability.

 

So again, you're alone. Friends thrown from your cyclone of doubt and fear

Depression as the fallout, with flooding memories of a great year

Laughing, joking whilst hanging out, partying and drinking beer

Another turn of this roundabout, I think it's time you disappear.