A Broken Record

A Broken Record

 

I feel like I’m a broken record,

Saying the same things I say everyday,

Issuing warnings that they’ve already heard,

Just on a constant loop, a constant loop, a constant loop…

I wail my pain, trying to speak out to anyone who will listen to my mournful music,

But when I realize that they are tuned out,

I turn my volume down, letting it stick to my chest,

It’s better this way, they don’t want to hear what I have to say.

Everybody wants to stop teens from committing suicide,

And that’s all fine and well,

Except I believe our depression that causes our death should be qualified as homicide.

I blame everybody who just puts ear plugs in when we said we need help,

And I can’t understand what I have to do,

To get their attention and tell them about my perception,

They confuse me, holding me close,

Saying they want to hear me out,

Saying I don’t need another dose,

Then shutting me down when it gets too deep,

What did I do wrong, to be ignored and drugged to sleep?

I wish you would, if you could then maybe you should,

Most days I don’t even want to wake up,

‘Cause I know it’ll be another day of staring into an empty cup,

Maybe that’s fate, they say, or maybe it’s just bad luck,

Either way, it’s not safe, like an old rusty pickup truck,

Making that weird noise that means your engine and your life is in danger,
Well I’ve been making that noise, banging my knuckles out of anger,

My check engine light is on, again, but nobody wants to check it, or take me in,

It’s just how it is, it’s just how it’s been,

Nobody wants me, nobody thought I could fit in,

But that’s the crux of it, I did,

You thought I was too weird of a kid,

The things that I thought and the pain the nightmares brought,

The love I yearned for and the feelings I caught,

I blended into the crowd by faking emotions,

I was swallowed by the human oceans,

And I never said a word about a lot of things,

Like my anti-sadness potions,

Yes, I’m talking about the pills that went from help to habit,

The bottles stashed away in my medicine cabinet,

It’s sad, I can talk about drugs like an expert,

Is that just because of the amount of hurt I exert?

And those aren’t the only bottles I’ve been hiding,

I’ve been biding my time and priding myself on thinking I’m fine,

That so long as I’m surrounded by others, nothing can reach me,

That so long as I hide from my mistakes, nothing can teach me,

That so long as I close myself off and remain surface level, nothing can breach me.

It’s no longer something I can do, it kills to create a web of lies,

Telling people you’re fine until your best friend dies,

Then people don’t just look into why he died, but who around him needs help, who cried?

Suddenly their eyes turn to you. “Are you okay? Are you feeling suicidal?”

No, I’m not okay, and no, but I am feeling homicidal,

I have no control and I refuse to sit in neutral, I refuse to remain idle,

If you really cared about him, he’d still be alive,

If you really cared about me, I wouldn’t be in a nosedive,

And if you really cared about us, you’d apologize and I’d survive.

So, if you’re going to try and tell me you want to stop suicide,

I’d tell you that you have to start with the root of the problem,
Who or what made us like this?

Was it not enough love, just one missed kiss?

There’s always a cause to an effect,

Always more than one solvent to a solution,

Will you clear the smoke or add to the confusion?

Will you reach for my hand and demand an answer?

‘Cause I can’t go any further without some help,

This depression eats at me like cancer,

It’s mutating, devouring me from the inside out,

And I don’t know how to stop it,

All I know is that this fight I’m fighting is turning into a rout,

I’m definitely not winning, I’m definitely not grinning,

So please help me, quit telling me I’m sinning,

Stop telling me I need to change my ways,

How can you tell me that when I can’t even control my emotions most days?

Don’t tell me to find faith in something that I can’t believe,

And don’t tell me to get help when it’s something that I can’t receive.

I feel like a broken record,

Hopefully today is a different day,

And hopefully you heard all that I had to say.