Love is not only caring but it's pain, tears, and work.

Love takes two people who are willing to share everything.

No one knows the pain I feeled,
my fate is sealed,
I have to be out of my mind,
to think love is something I can find.

She paints a preatty picture, but there's a twist, the razor, the paintbrush, the canvas, her wrist...why do I do this to myself?

She looks in the mirror and then down at her wrists as she starts to cry she quickly whispers look what I've become.