Let em know I'm doing fine, I got some girls on go, let em know when they fine. Talk to my homies in the cell on the cell, someone out of time. I'd rather put it in my rhymes than have somebody dropped down, have my body can find. And it seems the faster I run the less I get done and I don't know why.

I'm feeling like I'm running out of time, moving forward but I'm still behind. It's understood, sometimes good just ain't good enough. I'm going through it as well, I consider myself and my music as means for me to motivate. Even though I really know I can't avoid fate, nor ignore hate. No place like home, fourth base, slide through for a play just to feel more safe. Getting higher by the day, reminds you of the divorce rate. Fast forward to a service in a church, a funeral or a court date. What you want is what you feel farthest from, but you feel you deserve it, huh? I don't feel like my nerves is numb, impervious like I just started this song. We just waiting on a break through but it ain't occurred to us to keep waiting. Oh I'm feeling like I'm running out of time, running out of time. What time is it? No time like the present. My favorite is when we talk, not about food and poundage, but how hard I find it to believe in my pen and all the pages I hope to fill.Yikes. When I tell him I’m doing better, he asks me to explain. When I tell him I don’t “feel thin,” he can’t hide his surprise.

Mondays we can wear what we like on this day it’s just a quiet couch and 45 minutes where I try to say the truth to an understanding stranger with a Ph.D and a notebook. I take what they give me and I try to swallow. I listen to them count my ribs and I hear them say just how serious it is, really. I’ve endangered myself, they remind me, so much that perhaps I don’t deserve custody of my own body. If things had been only a little different, I might be in an institution, they say. I choke down chalky protein shakes, alone and unamused, their promises ringing in my ears. It’s a bridge and they swear on the other side there is Real Life. Sometimes I forget my classes, but I cannot forget my “recovery team.” They have my number and each others’, and as I criss-cross town I am aware of being always on their grid.

Tell me why im waiting prod. hatemyself