I cut into this skin
Only to escape from myself.
I don't cut to deep.
Just enough to make a swelled heap.
You don't know what I'm going through,
So don't say you do.
You'll know what I mean
When you take a knife
Just to know there's still life.
This life is rough,
So I do it to feel tough.
Counting the scars
Is like counting stars.
And even though I can't feel them
I know they're still there,
Because everyone stares.
Their piercing eyes
Turn to silent cries,
As I tell them another shattered lie.
