What is there left to say,
That you don't understand?
That you likely never will?
Do you have any idea,
Of what its like to be torn?
This pain is real.
Symbolised, by a still bleeding scar.
Be still, don't go,
Don't leave me to consume myself.
Theres and acean in my blood,
Filled with the tears of a child.
The world is no longer,
As I see it in shades of crimson.
So hate me, if thats what you want.
Like a rock I am,
I don't feel the surface pain.
Only those deep enough to hide. |
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