Like an insect is drawn to the light,
That's how I'm drawn to your scars.
I see them, I feel them, I think I can fix them
With warm hugs, with kind words, with being there,
With being me.
But after some time, no matter how much I want it
It's not enough.
You'll be there, crying in my lap, asking, begging
For me to make it go away,
To take away your pain, to help you,
To tell you what to do, how to go forward.
And that's when we'll both realise...
I can't do ****.
All I am is a pretty smile and a hug.
I'll feel your pain and it will hurt me more
Because I couldn't do anything
Because I don't know anything.

I'm an empty shell with the dream of who I could be.
All those dreams, since when I was little:
Thinking that I can make a change,
That I can make a difference.
Thinking that I actually matter...
But after all these years wasted,
Focused on how others think I should be
It feels like it's too late now,
Like I am hardwired a certain way.

I fell your pain, because it's mine also.
It's simply who we are.
Our scars, the pain of our wounds
Is what shaped us, created us.
Do you still remember your innocent days?
I still remember mine.
Imagining to find love at first sight,
Being happy, getting married,
And living happy for the rest of my life.
I would be an honest and good person,
A loving wife, a kind mother.
Yes, I had those dreams
But then, well, life happened.

So, as my scars started piling up
The more I could see them in others
And I just wanted to make it go away,
I wanted to help them.
Maybe in a twisted way, deep down
I even thought that maybe, just maybe
This will make mine fade too.
Because my scars, they felt like
Having a mark on my forehead.
No, not the Harry Potter like,
"I defeated evil, I'm special" kind of mark.
The "something is wrong with her"
Kind of mark.
I tried to hide it, oh I tried so hard
But I only made it more visible.
If only I knew that nobody cared
To look for it anyway.

With every day that passed,
It felt like it was spreading
So I tried to scratch it away.
Some days only to fell something
Because everything else felt numb.
Some days it was an unconscious act
Just trying to claw those marks off my skin.
But they never disappeared,
Not even when there was no pain just
Blood under my fingernails.
And after my dad hung himself
I wished I could scratch my way to my brain.
I realised that's where all is coming from.
It was the same for him.

He was a good man, he loved me, I know that.
I know that he loved me so much
And it makes me unable to comprehend
The mountains of pain he had to feel
To leave me here.
Not a day goes by that I don't think about him
And his pain.
His scars.
I could see them,
I could see the invisible marks on his skin,
I knew that there were monsters lurking,
reaching for him.
But i couldn't do anything.
I didn't do anything.
This is my biggest scar.

And I tried to ignore it, I tried to hide it
But nothing worked.
Now I know I shouldn't have tried to hide them.
I should never hide them.
I'll wear my scars and invisible marks
On my skin, anyone can find them
If they care to look.
My scars give me something
In return for me enduring the pain.
It's like the oddest symbiosis.
They teach me, they guide me.
They formed me.
This is me.
Me and my scars.

Come on now, don't be shy!
Speak up, say your opinion!
They ask you over and over,
after all those years they spent
teaching you to shut the **** up!
"It's not nice to speak at the table."
"Don't talk while the adults are having a conversation."
"Go over there and play in silence."
"Listen carefully when others talk."
"Be more quiet, i can't hear the TV!"
Yeah... listen, be polite, be quiet, that's how children should be.

Then they flip a switch.
Now you don't talk enough.
"Do you even have an opinion?"
"You are so shallow."
"Don't let people order you around sweetie,
you can't make it in this world like this,
you have to tell them what you think."
They chant it one after the other.
But they are always the exceptions to this rule.
You should never say your opinion to them.
To others, tell it to others
why the **** not
but NEVER to THEM...
'Cause then you are just mean.
"How can you say such a thing?"
"What do you mean I did something wrong?"
It's your fault!
You are just a people pleaser,
what do you know about right and wrong?"

And this is just a tiny drop in the ocean.
They have an opinion about EVERYTHING.
They always know better,
they always know what's best for you.
Do they ask what you want?
Do they ask about your dreams, your plans,
your aspirations, your fears, your OPINION?
No, of course not. They just know and that's it.
Trying to talk to them is like swimming against the tide.
I don't know how to swim.
But even if I did, it would still be useless.
You are never good enough.
Everyone and everything around you
is trying to change who you are,
what you believe in, how you behave, how you react,
HOW YOU FEEL.

Judging... judging... constantly judging.
All those people, all those voices
that you gathered inside your head,
constant tenants of your mind.
Sometimes you can't even tell them apart.
They are nested in there, like in a cocoon,
raising their voices over yours,
trying their hardest to make it disappear.
Like little gremlins,
tearing up and breaking everything that was precious,
until they burn it all to the ground
and leave nothing but emptiness,
creating a kingdom of envy, pain and regret.
Where once tall coloured trees,
dreams, ideas and hope laid,
now it's just the never ending screams of these voices
versus the faded pleas of your once beautiful self,
asking begging "let me be me", "just let me be me".

But no more, enough is enough!
Take control, take back what you had,
build a new empire with whatever's left.
Believe, hope and dream
and be the "me" you want to be.