We have all felt the pain of a wounded heart, But it's insane how we act when the wound is open, Some of us draw a world like no other, A world that shows others what dwells in our minds, Some of us play a Melody, A melody that creates a path from heaven to our souls,
Yet there are some of us who won't see the beauty when damaged, They listen to the sweet words of others , Because those sweet words create a tunnel for them, A tunnel that leaves behind their misery,
But there are some who can't find a tunnel, They hold themselves on cold nights forever searching the warm light at the end of a tunnel,
Maybe that's why most people who are being blind to the beauty resort to deep cuts of the skin, Forever tally marking their wrists like a prison wall, Waiting for the day when the guard opens their cell, And releases them from their own hell.
Just some of the popular ways people try to comfort themselves.