My little friend

I have a friend...

And he's... Scared

He wanted to come up to speak

But he knows that the crowd is packing heat

Aiming sights at his head

Ready to shoot blanks

Tearing away his self esteem

Because the heat is people staring

Eyes aiming sights at his head

Ready to shoot blank

Staring away his self esteem

Or what's left of it

How can you trust something you've never had

Young metro don't trust it

And he already has bullets flying at heads

I'm sorry.

He's nervous.

The kind of nervous that makes your heart drop like hot beats

He's so nervous he can't speak.

Words backed up in his word factory

choking on no's 

That haven't been used in years

From questions that couldve saved him from silent prisons he put himself in

I had a friend...

And his name was an anxiety disorder

He died in that prison a long time ago

They set him free but he always thought one second too late to react to release himself