I'm walking the line

Between self destructive and suicidal

Between neurotic and psychotic

Between avoidance and fear

Between distaste and dissatisfaction

I am merely detached from you my dear

When you're intent on coming here

In my heart I no longer know you

In my head I no longer bestow you

A space in my mind

Or any kind

Of room at all to think of you

I have better things to do

Like killing myself

Slowly but surely

It would be less agony

To end this insanity

And just slit my wrists

Instead I make lists

And write songs

And write poems

And misuse and abuse

Almost all of my gifts

Listen to me

I'm rambling

Am I just paranoid

Or am I a basket case?