I try to calm down, I swear. I try to breathe, Not to cry, Not to scream, Not to go crazy, Not to cut, Not to talk, To live But then I explode. And I'm the hypocrite, The spoiled child, The unpleasant one, The exaggerated one, The weird one, The one with a problem. And I don't know if it's out of laziness, fear, or just indifference, no one ever goes beyond judgment to really understand what that problem is.