your disappointment is a drug I don't want

Talk to me in circles
tell me how I'm wrong  
how life would be better  
if I could just...  
do anything better  
than this  
 
Cause shame never  
bought the dead back to life
but it will raise long dormant demons
that will gladly keep me  
in this purgatory  
you can't shame out of me  
 
And I know you think  
I'm not trying  
because you only see the facade
of a clear lake  
forgetting that troubled waters  
run deep  
and just because you can't touch  
the panic attack behind my eyes  
doesn't mean that I'm not going under  
 
I've made hiding an art form  
and you're becoming the monster  
under the bed  
my inner child is trying to tune out  
because you don't sound like  
a concerned lover with arms open  
ready to catch me when I fall  
 
You sound like my bitch of a mother  
who couldn't find empathy  
if you highlighted it in a dictionary  
and punched it through her soul  
 
And I know that's not who you are  
but you still me shame me  
when I lose half a day  
in the bedsheets alone  
tune out all the noise of everyone  
and journal like my life depends on it
not understanding that the written word  
is the only thing I have left to hold
when everything I say  
is stolen by the disappointment  
in your eyes  
cause I can't be better than this