They whispered your illness isn’t the picture
And it’s totally okay that your answer is liquor
The doctors want to say I am factory made
So I’m still the one that nobody wants to save
If you say congrats, will I take a step back?
Only if you attack trauma I have to unpack
A cocky rendition that labels me the victim
This day in age, I listen to my own wisdom
When will the judges give me my award?
Tell me what was all of that crying for?
Patience means there are signs to ignore
For my pain to exist, there had to be more
I no longer complain about every day
Screaming at you I’m finally okay
