My mind is like wood most days, sturdy and difficult to break
Other days I'm not so lucky for it is like glass,
The fragility and transparency making it dangerously vulnerable,
But though it's like an open window in a shop... most just walk by oblivious to the darkness that is seen,

Opening the door myself to escape is practically impossible,
The counsellors they send me to see, the way adults usually talk down,
It only creates more locks, locks which only few can open... yself not being one,

I'm suffocating in the seemingly clear air,
It's like a trick to the eye,
Like oxygen replacing itself with an unliveable gas,
I can't breathe yet I'm still here,

Tell me why,
Tell me why...
Why can't I breathe? I should be lifeless,

I feel like a murderer, only I murdered myself,
A murderer on Death Row,
My death longer and more excruciating than others,
It's like an elongated second,

The pain thriving throughout my mind,
Playing tricks, seeing spirits,
I see myself in the room... always,
I'm always watching me,

She's always sitting expressionless on a stool,
Watching my every move,
Thinking my every thought,
Enhancing my every doubt...

She's suffocating me,
But how can she if she's only staring,
She hates me, despises my existence...
But how can she suffocate me, how... if she is me?

Tell me why I'm suffocating,
Why am I not dead?
I've lost my will, and my life... but I'm still here,
Why am I still suffocating if I am already dead?

She should speak... tell me.... tell me.. and tell me her reason