Who can i talk to?
Where can i turn...
Sometimes I wonder
Why I keep going...
Broken, bled, and used
I sit here on the floor...
Here I am, sitting alone
in a shed of silence...
I want to die
I sit, i cry...
If you loved me
Which I wish you did...
I try to hide the growing pain
inside deep it stays...
Once a year she comes here
to sit and think of him...
I sit on my front porch,
Staring into space...
I hurt so much
But as long as you’re near...
How come eveyone knew
and i didn't...
Scissors
Stabbing...