I don't remember much:
There was a great crash
and a sense of falling.
There was a sinking feeling
and an instinct to leave at once.
Then there came a thought,
that I had been here before.
How many times,
Walking on broken glass
It seems no matter how
soft my steps
or care to position
I still come up with ****** feet.

I don't want to be that girl:
who sits and assures
It's all right!
I don't feel a thing!
The truth is, I feel everything
(only)in dark hues
of blue and green.

I'm not quite sure:
whose fault it is.
You've given me
thoughts
like cuts to the bottom of my feet
You've given me broken glass
for my thoughts
You've given me a love
for the color of a rose
best when seen out of my veins.
You've given me everything I've wanted
And you want it back.
Tell me whose fault is that?