Find me freaking reason to live.
Find me a freaking reason not to die.
Find me a reason why.
Find me reason why should I keep on saying, "I'm fine."

Tell me why I shouldn't believe the voices.
Tell me why death isn't the right choice.
I made the voice.
I made the choice.

How could I understand? I'm naive.
I don't know anything anymore. I can't even know if I'm depressed, anxious, or... as some people think... PTSD...

Why should I keep on trying?
Why should I keep on lying?
Why should I keep on smiling?

So what if I overact a bit?
It hasn't destroyed me yet, has it?
But everything I try just seems to far to get.

Don't tell me I'm fine.
Don't look at me like that,
Don't lie.

Often I'm told to clean up my act,
Although maturity is something I lack.
And so, when simple, little problems arise,
I overthink them, over and over again.

I made a habit of lying, sorry.
When you're saying "I'm fine" all the time, you reject the worry.

I miss when life was simplicity...
And misery wasn't always chasing after me.
It's pretty obvious now, I should've left my regret,
But I held onto it so foolishly.

Fill my lungs with gasoline so I can breathe.
Fill my mind with your bullcrap so I can 'see'
Fill my eyes with lies you displayed for me.

Make the voices shut up. I don't care if they're nice or mean to me.
I just want to be free.

Now you might know why I bleed, why I continue support,
Next chapter, why I'm like this, see ya, abort.