Separated.

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me…
Only the silence will break my soul, only the silence will make me flee
The pushes and the shoves, they don’t break my skin into many pieces
The no contact at all, the don’t meet her eyes, the pain increases
My shadow makes lonely company, it doesn’t have a warm comforting arm
My soul has too many dark depths, the gateway, my eyes, have lost their charm
Used to twinkle and glisten, deep brown shining out, they looked almost beautiful,
I had arms to protect me from the world, they wrapped me up in cotton wool
But when I fell for the first time, everything disappeared, life turned to hell, smiles turned to fire,
Burning my deep brown eyes, taking away the shine, turning me into this liar.

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me…
I don’t have any sticks or any stones, I have a mask, I have the shadow of history,
Sure I have words, by people who don’t know me, but then I have whispers,
From the ones who control my tears, the ones I love and hold dear, but the same thing always occurs,
They get too close, they want to know the real me, I know they wouldn’t like the hollow darkness,
So I run, run as fast as I can, I hide, I hide the feelings I could never express
In the cold, dark clouds of my mind, I sit and wonder why I am so messed up inside,
They see my outside, my show, but they always know in my head there is a divide
By the worn out dreams and the painted gardens of thought, it lies
Cut with a sharp thorn, there is a line, which separates my reality and my disguise.