Aug 2014
As I pull the daggers from my heart,
The memories of home in my mind,
The person inside begins to fall apart,
And like the ****** past, is left behind.
The memories of home in my mind,
The person inside begins to fall apart,
And like the ****** past, is left behind.
You can pull the daggers out, but part of yourself will go with them, and the wounds and scars will stick around.
