I count the scars on my stomach
twelve
reasons why you left me
I made myself such a beautiful home out of you
do you remember when my home burnt down?
if I think hard enough I can still feel the way I did that day
the scars feel like open flesh I can feel the heat against my skin and nothing matters anymore
I turned to alcohol and razors because I don't know if I'm trying to numb the pain or end myself all together
people say "don't **** yourself over a boy because he will bring another girl to your funeral"
it's funny because that other girl was there the whole time
my life is like a walking funeral I keep seeing strangers crying everywhere
but maybe I'm the one who's actually crying
I look into the mirror and I don't even recognize myself
maybe I'm the stranger who keeps crying maybe that's why I hear hushed voices everywhere I turn
no one wants to talk to the sad girl, not even you
I keep seeing black everywhere i try to open my eyes and it's like I'm opening them into an endless black hole
there's black everywhere there's black around you too
maybe the black swallowed you and that's why you left me
or maybe there's more than twelve reason why you left me or was I simply just counting scars?