It hurt to smile, her stitches were too tight. Drinking her feelings away, she reaches for a Camel Light.
Scarred beyond recognition, she silently sits in waiting.
An agreement with the devil, alone sitting shaking.
Longing to be gone but the dead cannot die.
They creep in the corners and find a way inside.
Nestled in her chest where her heart used to be,
Lie fragmented dreams of the girl she should be.
Old toys left forgotten, now residing in the back of her mind.
There's nothing left for her so she breaks down and she cries.
Family abandoned, friends never there
She's the girl in grunge pictures with the molten blue hair.
Always a mystery with a rough exterior
Scars like tattoos of feeling inferior.
She's boarded up and let's no one in,
No place to call her own, her home is her skin.
You look at her bold beauty and think
why can't that be me
But she would trade all that and more if
**she could be free