That sterile smell hits you as soon as you walk in,
that annoying bell rings as your feet touch the carpet,
you roll your eyes and sit on the leather couch,
time goes by,
tick frickin to-ck,
the people that walk in and out stare and smile at you,
you can see the question clear as day in there eyes,
why is she here?
you bat your lashes like any silly girl,
smile a sweet smile and wave,
then,
they see it,
the red insanity leaking out of your wrist,
a red splash of paint on your pale canvas arm,
they cover there mouths and walk out quickly,
and what do you do?
keep on smiling sweetly,
and laugh with the ghosts in your head,
that's what i do while i wait for "therapy".
