People question me, my depression, my anxiety, my being
People say that there’s reason for concern, to be watchful
They justify their watchful eyes with statements that are sharp
“I’m worried about her,”
Maybe I’d find it funny, if I didn’t find it absurd
For all that I do in the face of my mental illness, I’m winning
There is nothing to worry about
Of course, they will never listen, they won’t believe me
So I’ll let them worry it on out
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