I'm looking through magazines
It is OT time, I know
I have heard the name before
What OT means, I should know
I should be making
Myself better, with healing
But instead I turn the page
And question the purpose
Because my brain can't make sense
Of all the things that used to
Be normal, and clear, and plain
And instead fight back black tears
That turn to molasses and
Smother me at night
