My friends are only skin deep.
My skin is tainted.
Tainted with regret and memories filled with sadness.
The sadness and memories come forth as ink.
Ink that i hate and makes me hate myself.
I, me, myself has become a monster of skin deep friends.
Any deeper is just pain.

I wish I could tell you,
About the depth of my pain,
It’s almost never-ending,
And hard to explain.
I wish I could tell you,
How broken I feel inside,
My body just hurts so much,
But it’s easy to hide.
I wish I could tell you,
I can’t function very well,
Difficult to get around,
But no one can tell.
I wish I could tell you,
But you wouldn’t understand,
That I often have to ask,
For a helping hand.
I wish I could tell you,
How I honestly feel,
But you wouldn’t believe me,
That this pain is so real…

By the time you swear you're his,
  Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
  Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
  One of you is lying.