Picking up pieces of you,
Is never easy.
You see how scattered you are,
With blood on the floor,
Your body full with scars.

Bringing together of you,
Is very challenging.
You look fine but dying on the inside,
Sometimes you're just dead,
Your soul now means nothing.

Standing up with two legs,
Is never stable enough.
You are shaking,
Because your life is rough.
Nothing can explain this feeling,
And so you put it in writing.

Chin up little baby,
You know how much I love you.
Let yourself be crazy,
Because that is you.