Fox on the Couch

Yeah… good afternoon, doctor.
I brought my feelings.
And a little chaos.
Let’s talk, yeah?

I walk in cool with my blazer on tight,
Smile like “trust me,” but I bite with the light.
You got a notebook, you got that calm face—
Like you can tidy up a cosmic disgrace.
You say “Welcome, take a seat, feel safe,”
I say “Sweet… who told you I behave?”
I’m not here ’cause I’m broken inside—
I’m here ’cause you think you can be my guide.

So tell me, doc, with your “mmm” and your tone—
How you gon’ handle a fox with a phone?
I’m a lady, I’m a demon, I’m a system mistake—
I’m the kind of “case” your diploma might break.

Doc, doc, doc — I’m a fox on the couch!
Don’t “fix, fix, fix” me — you’ll forget what you’re about.
I purr, purr, purr — that don’t mean I’m tame,
Might be me laughin’ at your “progress” game.
Doc, doc, doc — I’m a fox on the couch!
You came with your method… I came with a mouth.

How does it feel? (How does it feel?)
Like I’m a riddle with heels!
Is it trauma?
Nah, it’s drama — and deals!

When I was little, I scratched up the wall,
Teenage me? I crossed lines just to feel tall.
Adult me? I nibble the world’s last nerve—
Then ask for a hug like I don’t deserve.
They say “You’re intense,” I say “True, my dear.”
Three layers deep: desire, pain, and sneer.
I tried to be soft, I tried to be sweet—
But softness in my hands turns into heat.

Last time I loved, I loved too loud,
They called me “complicated” like it’s something I’m proud.
So I folded my heart like a paper crane—
Threw it in the bin with your “healthy” refrain.

Doc, doc, doc — I’m a fox on the couch!
Don’t “fix, fix, fix” me — you’ll forget what you’re about.
I purr, purr, purr — that don’t mean I’m tame,
Might be me laughin’ at your “progress” game.
Doc, doc, doc — I’m a fox on the couch!
You came with your method… I came with a mouth.

Breathe in, breathe out
I breathe smoke in a drought.
Count to ten
I count your doubts… and bounce.

You ask “Do you want change?” — I say “Maybe, okay.”
I want someone to stay when I put fangs away.
I want my “grrr” not confused with “I’m flirtin’,”
I want to be fragile without gettin’ hurtin’.
But here’s the joke, doc, listen close to the theme:
When I cry — you vanish like a self-help dream.
When I snap — you return with your hero glow,
So you don’t want me… you want a villain for your show.

I take off the jacket, see the bite-marks, wow—
Not from the world, doc… from me, somehow.
I’m not a beast, I’m a person they named—
“Animal, monster,” till I wore it and became.
So keep your checklist, keep your little advice—
I’ve been survivin’ on sarcasm and spice.
If you were a cat, I might lick your cheek—
But you’re human, doc… and humans get weak.

Doc, doc, doc — I’m a fox on the couch!
Don’t “fix, fix, fix” me — you’ll forget what you’re about.
I purr, purr, purr — that don’t mean I’m tame,
Might be me laughin’ at your “progress” game.
Doc, doc, doc — I’m a fox on the couch!
You came with your method… I came with a mouth.
Doc, doc, doc — I’m a fox on the couch!
No leash, no lesson — I’m the glitch you can’t house!

Time’s up? Cute.
Write this down for your little file:
“Too self-aware… to be easy to love.”

See you next week, doctor.
…If you’re brave enough.