You told me I'd get better
That soon I'd really see...

I lie on my bed
curled in a ball...

Father and daughter
a half and a quater...

My eyes are always
drawn to your face...

Crisp white pages
all exactly the same...

Nothing could fill,
this emptiness inside...

I go everywhere,
with my cover on...

Put your arms around me
hold me tight...

I feel so sad
I hate me so much...

The child inside me
curls up in a ball...

Caught between,
the past and future me...

I've wept a path of tears like dew
crying over somthing no one knew...