Its really (not) okay

Tears in the eyes of a sinner
She knows shes tripping up
But wont move to break her fall
She goes to bed, sick to her stomach
Trying to tell herself its really okay
She hates to be alone with herself
Because she can smell her own fear
She cries that she doesn't feel or care
But inside hopes someone else does
She knows that shes an accessory
Something easy to find and disposable
Only fun for a little while
She worries until it makes her bleed
So she hurts herself a little more
Killing and rotting away her mind
Her perfume is the stench of moral decay
Is what shes doing making her happy?
Maybe for a minute, but shes not sure
Insanity in the eyes of a sinner
Pain in the eyes of a sinner
She knows shes tripping up
But wont move to break her fall
And so she continues to fall...