I think I am becoming,
More than what you see.
This wounded person before you,
Has not yet fallen to her knees.
I beg for God to help me,
But my pryaers he never hears.
Becuase my words are often silent,
Hidden by shame and tears.
I try to stop the painful thoughts,
That fill my aching head.
I reach for someone beside me,
But only touch an empty bed.
I am all alone now,
In this dark place I see,
A cold and lonley person,
Who resembles only me.
One day I will get better,
This I truly believe.
I hope to god that it's not too late,
For me to finally see.
I wake up in the morning,
With swollen eyes and tears.
My pain and screams,
Are just a noise,
That no one ever hears.
This will be the last time,
I know it.
I've been doing it way too long.
And to make it worse,
I knew it was wrong all along.
I can't fight this.
I am all alone.
I haven't won the battle,
But I know now what you see.
I tried my best to fight it,
But it still has a hold of me.
