The Lie
My therapist told me to write a journal My therapist told me to process and move on
But how can I write? My pen has no ink Ink is a toxin, a toxin a drug
Did you write down your feelings? my therapist asks Her voice distant in this tiny room
Yes! I shout
Yes! I think, but not on paper A long time ago I wrote it all down
I kept all of it, all of it I wrote you into my walls