They say
"When you grow up, your heart dies."
My heart?
My heart has been dying for a decade.
(Somehow it's still beating)
It wasn't until I found myself
In some strange men's beds,
On the bathroom floor,
So deperate to feel alive,
To feel anything at all,
That I realiezed
I've already grown up.

I've been dead inside for years.

She stole my innocence when I was merely 4 years old.
Along with the bottles my "unconditionnal love" for him was gone too.
All these drugs,
I swore I'd never do.
These cigarettes,
Have broken the last of my rules.
The razors I used to not know what were for
(Let alone, understand how someone could get pushed so far.)
Have all made their marks on me
Literally
I look in the mirror and I hardly recognize the reflection,
And I see all my lonely nights painted upon my skin.
I've been told you can ******* heavy heart on my lips.
Smell the smoke.
Touch the scars.
I've grown into the person I swore I'd never become.