Therapy Gone Wrong

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Begging for life
You hold out your hand
It runs through your fingers
A heart made of sand

They think you are climbing
But you’re sinking down
Desparately listening
To far away sounds

They hear you laughing
When you cry out
They see your future
As you swim in doubt

And though you are bleeding
They do not care
You’re covered in scars
And they call you fair

They come around
They sit with your corpse
You float above now
Filled with remorse

They’ll happily care for
A ghost in your stead
They keep on talking
They can’t see you’re dead

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