The wounds of my heart are many in number.
They are twice, nay, thrice that of my flesh.
They are deep, hideous wounds that shed tears of red, bright and sparkling.
My heart weeps these tears, these scarlet tears,
In hopes they will finally rid me of my many fears.

My wounds of the flesh were often self inflicted,
A red line here, a red line there,
And show the events of my past.
My struggles and triumphs over the years.
And through the night I shed more tears.
Tears caused by my many, many fears.

The scars of my life shown throughout,
The scars that hide my pain.
The scars of my flesh.
The scars of my heart.
I don’t even know where to start.

I can’t remember the last time I smiled,
The last time I laughed,
The last time I felt loved.
Where have the times gone?
When will my heart be whole again?
Who will save me from this?
The wounds of my flesh.
The wounds of my heart.