My battle scars come in all shapes and sizes,
Lines,
Spots,
Organs,
All kinds of disguises.
Some from you,
Most from what you do.
My lungs are black from the smoke when you stress me out.
My stomach and legs lines from the atonement I endure when I've done you wrong.
My hands from the fire I play with when you leave.
They all represent what I've now become.
I've survived them all.
This time when you leave,
Things will be worse.
This time when you leave don't expect to hear from me again.
Because this time when you leave is the end.
The end of a friendship,
A lifetime bond.
Thats okay,
Because this lifetime is gone.
