Erasing words over bleeding lips. Mascara dripping from tear tainted eyes. Foundation covering up ancient scars. Blush covering up whatever didn't fade away.
You'd better learn soon that this'll never blow over.
Sewing needles and safety pins piecing back together what you ripped apart. I keep questioning what you'll have to pay for all the broken pieces of me.
Now you're starting to choose your moves carefully as to not break anything else. Of all the times I don't know why you picked this one to start caring.
After all this, I believe in all of nothing. The price tags have been ripped off and burned. Why are you so scared of leaving a trace?
I guess now would be a bad time to tell you that the stains on my mattress can't ever be washed away. I'd love to know how you plan on stopping this disease.
