Heavy emotions on my chest from all this extra stress; from the disrespect that I'm getting to thinking about having sex. I'm screaming fuck the world for all my twisted demons; don't be shocked because when I say it, I mean it. Growing up, I respected everyone I met; now I'm sitting back, wondering if that was something I'll regret. They talking shit, acting like I don't exist, but my old habits will return even if I try to resist. My violence is rising, like the Iron Giant; only thing that's on my mind is starting a riot. I'm a gentle giant with a chip on its shoulders; if I can't get any peace, then my life is over. If I close my eyes and forget it, then I could be myself; they want to know my problem, but they ain't looking for help. My mind is so conflicted that my life is an afterthought; I hope God can save me before the devil makes me set it off.