My heart is bound tightly in knots made of razors
No bows or bunny ears to make this bond easier to untie
Pain confined to a pit in my stomach, and a hole in my soul
To painful to keep, and to painful to let go
So I sit in the middle plateau
The "how are you's?"
Answered behind a crooked smile of "i'm fine, how about you?"
I look better, I seem happier, I seem healed
But these cuts were closed with ugly scars to bare