Frontal Lobotomy

Frontal Lobotomy

Standing outside my therapists’ office in the bitter cold,
smoking a cigar, I must be a sight to behold.
The wolf inside me is howling at the moon.
At the same time, I wish I was swimming in a lagoon.

The front door opens as my therapist steps out.
He looks at me like his mind is filled with doubt.
“Come on in Ace and take a seat.
It’s a cold day out here on the street.”

I take a seat and look my therapist in the eye.
Tell him about my past and about my addiction to being high.
Same bullshit he’s heard for a year.
Every time I talk to him I can sense his fear.
He’s afraid of the dark side inside of me,
and wishes I would be hung by the neck from a tree.
Why do I come here?  It’s a waste of my time.
I get up to leave since I’m wasting my hard-earned dime.
“Sit down Ace, there’s someone here I want you to meet.”
In walks a man wearing a suit, holding onto a sheet.

“This is Doctor Brad; he’s here to help you.
He’s been studying you for a while and has shared with me his views.
We both think you are too dangerous to be kept alive,
and the longer you are able to thrive,
the closer you become to turning into a serial killer.
But please, Ace, don’t be bitter.
It’s not your fault you’re completely fucked in the head.
So instead of terminating you, we are going to go ahead
and give you a lobotomy to calm you down.
Then you will no longer feel an urge to frown.”

I’ve heard enough and get up from my chair.
I’m suddenly grabbed from behind by a man a size of a bear.
      I’m put into a full nelson and dragged away,
into a room that’s completely gray.
I’m a little scared I will admit.

The doctor enters the room holding a leucotome.
He’s about to invade the sanctuary of my dome.

The doctor sticks the leucotome through my eye and into my brain.
I let out a few words that are highly profane.
The life I know is about to end.
My life flashes before my eyes, so I try to make amends.

I remember when I was forced underwater and nearly drowned as a kid.
I’ve always had a problem with learning to forgive.
I remember getting lost in the woods and overcome with fear.
I remember being mocked and called a queer.
I remember talking to myself like it was normal.
I remember being high and feeling awful.
I remember breaking into my neighbor’s apartment and taking what wasn’t mine.
I was lost in the dark and begging to cry.
I’m constantly paranoid and feel insane!
Maybe that’s why metal is so soothing to my domain.
I remember battling depression all of those fucking years,
Believing marijuana and alcohol would bring me cheer.
I remember dating Autumn, destroying my mind and soul,
and thinking my escape was through using a bowl.
I remember watching my hero die in front of me in a pool of blood.
My emotions overcame me in a flood.
I remember feeling completely dead inside.
A place that was once filled with pride.
I’m still hurt in there,
and even though I say my prayers,
I will never truly be ok again.
I will never recover fully from that miserable pain.
That’s why I’m fucking nuts and write this shit!
That’s why people don’t think I’m fit
to survive in a society that doesn’t understand true hell,
and doesn’t understand how it feels to be locked in a dark cell.

Looks like my problems are coming to an end, farewell to all,
as the world around me slows to a stall.
Everything goes white as my brain is cut apart.
Why can’t they just stick a knife into my heart?