Am I turning into one of those girls?
You know the ones I'm talking about―
The ones who make excuses for their bruises,
And hide the marks on their neck with pretty scarves?

Am I becoming the girl who I always said I'd never be?
I watched my mom growing up, strong and independent.
She always said "You know, you're a lot like me."
But am I really? I'm not sure anymore..

Oh look, a new one. My first thought
Is how to hide it from sight.
The second is what I'll say
If somehow my sweater rides up too high.

And the third is what will happen
If they don't believe my lie?
What will I tell them then?
Whatever happens, I mustn't cry.

No, I can't cry.
If I do, everyone will know
Know what I'm hiding
Behind all the baggy clothes

Secrets so dark, Monsters are scared;
Scratches so deep, no doctor would dare;
Black and blue bruises― my permanent paint,
Stained to my skin, forever more shall be taint.

And yet..
After this horrifying discovery
I still love him, don't I?
Of course I do..

And still..
I'll cover my body with his sweatshirt,
Not uttering a single word.
Because I can't lose you..