Okay. So my ego’s in overdrive,
but I assure you, I don’t feel ill.
I’ve never, ever felt more alive,
though, my shrink begs I take a pill.
It’s far too easy for her to inject
her biased opinion on this subject.
And what with her constantly obsessing
methinks she may be projecting.
She sits there listening in her dispassionate way
to every little thing I say.
Waiting for me to drop myself in,
to her neat and tidy filing bin.
‘Yes. Textbook case. I can file you away.
This session’s now over. Come on, hurry up and pay’.
I can read your thoughts, you smarmy cow.
Whose ego’s slipping out of control now?
I don’t know why I bother coming here,
Your talk about ego and how ego is fear.
Me? Afraid? What am I afraid of?
My parents divorced but I had plenty of love.
Now you imply I’m insecure.
Why do I come here? I’m not even sure.
Oh yeh, it’s because I’ve become quite a bore.
Still, I don’t need you and your jumped-up cure.
My friends say I’m disruptive and attention seeking
but what they don’t know is, inside I’m shrieking.
Because, the mask I wear on the outside
is only there so that I can hide
the pain, the heartache and the crippling fact
that my whole life’s a sham, a display and an act.
I’m running out of energy, can’t keep playing this game,
I’m hurting myself and that wasn’t my aim.
I only wanted to try and fit in -
great job, fab clothes and a body model thin.
How was I to know when I had my first line of coke
that my life would turn in to this interminable joke
I looked in the mirror one day and it cracked.
Now it’s over. It’s finished. I don’t want to look back.
So yes, you were right, shrink, my ego is out of control
but you can put me back together. Come on! Let’s go!
It’s all rock and roll!!!
Copyright © 2011 Lena Fiagbe. All rights reserved