If I stutter enough to get the words out Do you think you could pick up These things that I'm laying down?
These nerves are not a thing I can just change.
They leave scabbed over lips and a mouth with a bloody taste.
I'm picking at scars That will never go away.
My stomach is in knots And the nausea won't take a break.
These nerves are not a few deep breaths and couple months of self help medicine. They're twelve years of therapeutic hell and I'm still not rid of them.
It's not just being nervous. It's completely breaking down.
It's shaking at the thought of change Even when you force things to remain the same.
I can't believe you think I want it this way. I can't believe you think that I am sane.
Is this what sane looks like to you? Are these things that a sane person would do?
If I stu- stu- stu- stutter enough to get the words out Do you think you could pick up These things that I'm laying down?