Blind faith is what it's called,
letting people inside of my wall.

Will they hurt me? Only time will tell.
If they do, I hope they go straight to hell.

But that's not how I feel about the ones I loved.
I do hope they make it to the heavens above.

But I'm left here in pieces to struggle with it all,
and PTSD is what that's been called.

So here we all sit—my monsters and me.
Why won't they leave and let me be free?

I don't want to live with them any more.
They continually beat me, but who's keeping score?

They live in my heart, my head, my mouth—to name a few.     
Come on, Cindy, help me; what is it I need to do?

Medication, detox, honesty—that I have done.
You're on my team—thank God—I'm no longer one!