Every pinch of pain,
Is a part of your soul.
And every scar, tells a story.
Every tear reaches down,
Inside you and shows,
You are not that strong after all.
Every raised mark on your skin,
Follows the path of your damage,
A damaged mind, broken into insanity.
But who's really crazy after all?
And you're counting down the hours,
Each moment is important,
Your heart aches, clenches up.
And you can't afford to make any wrongs.
Because life is only so short.
And you're still wishing you'd see your grave.
In the back of your mind.
But now, you've stopped wondering why.
