An autobiographical account of having bipolar disorder and taking medication.
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*lighter click*
Empty bottles on the sink
Instructions say “take one a day”
All the doctors seem to think
This is the way to stop the pain
The highs and lows, they come and go
But I don’t feel them anymore
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the maddest of them all?
The girl that’s spinning in a dress to take her mind off loneliness
And mirror, mirror show me why the pills numb everything inside
All I feel is emptiness, that’s better
It’s better, I guess
Though the lows were fathoms deep
I can’t lie, I miss the highs
Vines of envy start to creep
Around my thighs for those who died
And I pretend I’m on the mend
Putting on a show to please the crowd
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the maddest of them all?
The girl that’s spinning in a dress to take her mind off loneliness
And mirror, mirror show me why the pills numb everything inside
All I feel is emptiness, that’s better
It’s better, I guess
Mirror, mirror who am I?
Nothing even makes me cry
Mirror, mirror who am I?
Nothing really makes me cry
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