The bad part about a girl with a broken heart is that she starts to hand out the pieces to anyone who comes along.

It's that same kind of morning; get up, put on that pretend smile, and hope that something keeps me going all day, keeps me from breaking down, keeps me from thinking of him and our past.

I've never wanted anything the way I want you.

That's why they call them dreams...because they'll never be reality.

Why does she love the one that would die before loving her, and not the one that would die for her love?

I've finally realized that being truly happy was not part of my destiny.

We'll just walk away and pretend this never happened.

So I just had to know...why do you keep hurting me like this?

And everytime I say good-bye, I die a little more inside.

The scars on my arms tell a whole different story.