Therapy

My body lit up like a specimen
I’m spacing further out than usual
Do scented candles count as medicine?
The dress that fits and makes me beautiful
You say you wanna be an item
I say I want one in my hand
I wanna be held like the object of your love
High in supply, high in demand

I’m going to therapy
I’m praying in a church
I’m waiting in a hospital
I’m gonna stay here til it doesn’t hurt

Comfort found in the material
As real and solid as a rock
I need something that I can count on
I need a calculator, I need a clock
I need to tell the world a story
I need a place to write my name
I need to show you I am worthy of your love
I need something that can hide my shame

I’m going to therapy
I’m praying in a church
I’m waiting in a hospital
I’m gonna stay hеre til it doesn’t hurt