She’s drilled holes into her temples
And tried to pull out memories with her bitten fingernails
She’s recited everything she’s said and heard
Into a ***** toilet bowl every night on the hour
She’s weeped a million times over
From her eyes and from her wrists,
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

And now the scars left over can’t scab
The phrases are written in morse code on her body
Her will has been evicted along with her soul
And she’s become zombified, a living piece of parchment
From which she’s tried so hard to erase the words
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

The sound of a voice tears hers apart every day
And the words they form she’s come to despise
So she’s taken up book burning,
Making every letter ever aimed at her head run for their lives
She’s even made her own name take off, and now she’s
Desperately pleading for eternal silence to be her savior
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

So when you see her in the hallways, she pretends she’s invisible,
Pretending that her presence won’t have any meaning to it,
Pretending that she’s not important enough to be noticed,
Because her motto is fake it
Until you make it.
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

And the ones that have told her she’s not good enough,
That she’s better off dead and no one will care,
They laugh at her and then they forget.
They come back around the next day to laugh at the same joke.
She looks in the mirror and tries to laugh like them,
Laughing so much, she begins to cry,
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

So when you hug her and tell her it’s alright,
That you love her and tell her she’s worth more than life itself,
Sing it to her, so she won’t forget.