Alone Again

Let me set the scene, this was a sheltered teen
Autistic queer from catholic school taught not to question things
Who was scared of cigarettes and weed til age 15
It wasn't peer pressure, it was the PTSD

Now that drugs were in the mix, people were scary
As if people weren't hard enough to read already
Pinned against a wall, belittled for stating their needs
The autistic queer decides to just stick to weed

That was the most that they could do, 'cause they were surrounded
There are no lines in the sand when you're surrounded
There are no lines in the sand if it's inconvenient
They'd rather have no lines than be alone again

They'd rather have no lines than be a burden
They'd rather have no lines than be alone again

What's the line between "grown" and "healthy"?
They find themself asking questions at every party
Like who's who behind closed doors? Whose behavior can they read?
They just wanna play their music without fearing the streets

But they shut the fuck up, like they were told to do
When given choices for comfort, seems unreal and new
As if people are secretly resenting them
As if people view them as a sidenote in the end

They think, as if people are that considerate
As if people don't think I kill the buzz
As if I have the right to feel this way
As if people wouldn't be furious

Do people disagree that I'm a burden?
Do people care when I find myself alone again?