My heart isn't for the picking like a ripe Apple,
It's been damaged, it's been bruised, it's been carved with a scalpel.
And there's one common factor in every ounce of pain,
It all stems back to you and my tears fall like rain.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
My heart isn't for the picking like a ripe Apple,
It's been damaged, it's been bruised, it's been carved with a scalpel.
And there's one common factor in every ounce of pain,
It all stems back to you and my tears fall like rain.
© Joanna Mrsich. All rights reserved
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