Time is ever so much broken,
I hold the broken pieces in my hands.
Why do I feel like this means,
that it is our end.

I hate the thought of it,
You don't realize its me you hurt.
But repeatedly you say its fine,
and repeatedly I'm thrusted to the dirt.

Pain is the reason I'm alive.
It's the only thing im left to feel.
And I don't think that this time,
My body will let me heal.