A little therapy box, 

Distractions and detours

Stuffed to the brim, this box of avoidance,

Of tears, of friends, of procrastination. 

Give me the denial 

I can twiddle my thumbs to,

Give me a way to sell

The hours of my life. 

 

Give me that little therapy box,

That addictive little box,

As we kill ourselves to ignore

The fact that our lives are Hell,

The fact that people don't love us anymore,

That you aren't beautiful anymore,

That the people we love are dead.

 

I NEED that little therapy box, 

That last ounce of serotonin, 

That box that understands

That I am killing myself slowly, 

But it just sucks

                          and sucks

                                          and sucks 

                                                            the 

                                                                   life

                                                                         away.