I'm strong, so much stronger than anyone knows
I work to keep people happy, even during my own lows
I step up to take everyone else's blows
But I can feel the frustration building
Pretty soon I'm going to explode
Continuously bleeding, never healing, always feeling
And it's cracking open my eggshell of a skull

But I still hurt, and no one lets me voice my concerns
They call me a fake, a hypochondriac, a complainer
I can't withstand the sting of their words, it burns
All they want to discuss is how much it interferes with life
But mine is built around the pain
And they just don't understand
That I'm strong, but I still hurt

In the back of my mind, I tell myself
Any hike uphill or possible falter
Can be stopped by a single leap
But I just let the stress seep in
I wear looming suicide as a halter
and it never sobers up my mind,
Confused and emotionally numb forever

I'm plucking petals from a daisy
I'm trying to decide how to live my life
I'm flipping these coins
But it's different than she loves me, she loves me not
It's the end of this battle I've fought
Should I surrender or allow me to self-destruct?
Am I strong or am I controlled by the words after “but”?