Lie to me,
raise my natural
instinct to save the world
and bend me to your greedy whim.

My therapist says
it'll kill me in the end.
One day someone will
hit me to close to home
and I won't be able to take it.

The drinking won't help.
The drugs won't be enough.
I'll relapse in the biggest way
and be completely useless
at saving anyone.

I'll be the burned out
trash I always
knew I was.

This guy is saying he's abused and such. But he's lying. Lying. Lying. And I feel sick because I want to save him and I can't. I can't save anyone. I hate myself for being so easly minipulated. I can't do anything.