Porcelain skin with her eyes painted black
delicate wrists stained a pure rosy red
Curled up on the bathroom floor again
crying and hoping that she ends up dead
The pressure finally got to her
and there's nothing left to say
because she feels lost, hopeless
and can't stand to live another day
A fragile heart built on broken hopes
holding on tight to fraying ropes
afraid to let go but losing grip
one day shes just going to slip
shes far from being called perfect
constantly changing from calm to ill
peel away whats left of her skin
you'll find there isn't much left within
