They want to harangue me
Explain to me my faults.
No quick fixes, they say
Pick a course/stay a course
Divorce it – you die.
This is my reality
you call it excuses.
These are my thoughts
I call them convoluted.
Behavior, savior, and no I’d never rape her
I’ve never hit a woman and NO I’d never TAKE HER
These are words distressing and absurd
Not a blessing
Just your curse.
It can’t be only drugs, sober I’m equally as hopeless
But I know – if it were you, you’d find a better way to cope with it
So it’s me, the problem
My brain’s a bad apple and it’s rotten to the core
I cannot wait to see what the market has in store