You all think you know the real her
But do you really...

Sorry i am not what you want me to be
I am not perfect...

You tell me that you trust me
I tell you that i trust you...

I'm sorry that i am not who you want me to be
I'm sorry that i am not a piece of clay that you...

Each day we are drifting further and further apart
We used to be like sisters...

As I take the blade,
I make my last cut...

Your all sad that she is going to leave
But do you know what...

I am so happy to i have met you
You are such a great person...

She sits there
Carves one last cut into her wrists...

I have been sent a very special gift
And that is you...

She sat there
Staring up at here celling...

On the outside she is a beautiful growing girl
On the inside she is scarred little girl...