I spend my time trying not to be angry with God
For making me so emotional, it just feels wrong
These are chemical reactions going off in my brain
I'd talk to people, but they don't feel the same
There's a lump in my throat and tears fill my eyes
Dad says happiness is a choice, but I've been choosing it for a while
The INFP articles don't tell me how to get rid of it
So I pray to God, and tell Him that I'm sick of it
Meanwhile people come to me with their problems on hand
And I can help fix them, but my own I can't understand
You're clouded from me, I don't know what to do
'Cause maybe I'd be alright, if I could just see you