I will try not to worry
I want you to remember
I need something to breath
I want the air from your lungs
I want your memories
that you hold.
I don't want you to worry
because this is the way it'll stand.
There's scratches on your arms
and wounds on your wrist.
Something terrible took place
I took you away
I took all your thoughts
and left you standing there worried.
But was it worth it
as i stit in this what it seems like
prison cell.
For just an act of self-mutilation?
You did this to yourself you know.
Now i'm
All doped up on medication
you can forget my name i'm more like a zombie.
This is not my fault you know
I only did it to get some attention
You never listend to my cries
then locked me up when i just
wanted to be held.
And you wonder why i hate you so my lovely mother.
