he loves me, he loves me not.
Now that I'm used, I'm feeling the rot.
he claimed he was ready, wanted to love.
It's clear he was lying. Tears flood,
My vision blurred,
My heart deterred.
Now that I'm free,
I could fly like a bird.

But, I'm broken and used, I've been thrown away,
Now I sit, bleed and pray,
that someone, oh, anyone will tell me I'm worth it.
Fix me, love me, cover the slits.

I don't want this life, the mutilation and blood.
No sleeve or stitch can cover what's done.
Awake and bleeding, my skin feels hot.
I tell myself, "he loves me not."