Dear Therapist

Dear therapist, I know you expect me to spill myself

But what if my insides are rotting out like a corpse
And I cant speak cause all the screamings left me hoarse
The only thing that keeps you listening is $7 an hour
But please Im begging just explain to me how or
Tell me why Im so fucking fucked like a sitting duck
Exposed to all their evil, so far Im living cause of luck
I would've tied the rope if your fat ass wasn't in the way
With the social workers bothering me day after day
Telling me lies that fill my dreams, that its going to be okay
They give me this painful hope that provokes the lump in my throat
And Im thinking this is going to turn out like an episode of Murder She Wrote
So dear therapist with ears and reaching arms but no hands or fingers
Fuck off, leave me alone, go away, you aggitate the pain that lingers