Bring Me Down

Just because you don't have it doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
You pretend you know what it's like trying to live with this.

"You're just lazy, you don't want to do it. Just like your father."
I'm just scared, too heartbroken to push myself or even bother.

Social anxiety is a real thing you filthy fucking cunt.
So is depression, stupid bitch. So don't pull that stunt.

You say you know, that you've lived with it too. Obviously fucking not.
Not to the same degree since you've pushed farther than I've fought.

You admitted doing a shitty job trying to raise me, yet it's still all on me.
As if I'm just supposed to fix it in the blink of an eye, and set it all free.

Really? You think that's how this works? You think you know it all?
Fuck you, whore. I hope you burn. Because I know it's all your fault.

Don't tell me you love me. Don't tell me your proud.
Don't tell me you support me when all you do is bring me down.