The turmoil, the chaos, the knife, the teeth.
everything tearing deep inside me.
The blank eyes, dead words, drops of stone,
the chills that reach the deepest bone.
The hate, the fire, the burning hearts,
What is the whole if it misses it's parts?
What is love if there is not hate,
and what is time if you were not too late?

The shot across the nation,
the pounding in your head,
the light and ditz sensation,
limbs light as lead.

The focus of the rebel,
the runway of the needy,
the escape of every label,
better off dead.

The burning force of throttle,
the coughing, shaking grimace,
Your satan-in-a-bottle,
despair's only penance.

If I look into the mirror,
and see the scars are healing,
I learn the more "right" it does,
the more it is revealing.

There once was a girl,
who held your hand,
who laughed at your jokes,
who kissed your bruises.

There once was a girl,
who sang as you drove,
who fought on your side,
who held you as you slept.

There once was a girl,
who forgave twenty times over,
who lost herself so that you could find your way,
who sacrificed dignity for love.

There once was a girl,
who took on tigers and lions,
who hid her wounds as best she could,
who gave up her life for you.

There once was a girl,
who no longer has a hand to hold,
who no longer laughs,
who no longer kisses.

A girl who no longer sings,
who no longer fights,
who no longer has anyone to hold.

There once was a girl,
but no more.
Only the empty shell of memories.