Think about the coffin, often

Would rather auction my heart than become an orphan

To this world, I keep walking with nowhere to go

Around these women I keep my caution

Beautiful eyes, with a sinful kind of glow

I never know which way to go

I feel lost in the self, my health and depictions of wealth

Painted in pictures on my crumbling shelf

I second guess my words because I guess I'm the problem

That little boy with dreams and this life chose to rob him

Thoughts of a false reality that I'm lost in

Seventeen years to this day I haven't stopped them

How I'm living's what the problem is

Patting down my pockets, asking where my wallet is

You were supposed to fix the hollowness

Mental health is where the problem is

I hate myself, my body's what I'm rotting in

I say what I think, I'm intolerant

Never one to drink but tonight hand me the bottle

Imma swallow it

Give me a path to live differently, I will follow it

I wanna end me that's what the problem is

Always the problem kid

"You a fucking problem kid"

Oh, is that so? Where were you a couple months ago?

If I had to choose you'd be the first one to go

I'm the fucking problem?

There's a lot you don't know

How I appear like I can do it on my own

Where were you when I was calling on your phone

Where were you when I had no one to turn to

And you told me you'd be there, you let my feelings burn through

Without a second thought I hope you fucking burn too