People make mistakes.
Miss takes, practice, rough draft.
You learn and you move on.
But how can you move on when it's constantly being advertised to the big city in your mind.
With a body full of scars I know my mistakes better than anyone else.
I move on but I'll never forgive myself.

I was raised with high expectations.
Held at the very top of a glass pedestal and expected to hold onto broken shards when I finally shattered.
Every sharp edge, I made sure it cut me open.
I don't know if the pain was to punish myself or just to feel something for once.
Whatever the reason, I dug deep and let what was left of myself pour out.
Maybe this time I'll dig deep enough not to come back.
Maybe I'll let go of the shards and crumble under the rubble.
There's no saving a girl from monsters when they're all locked in her head.
They dig from the inside out,
And she shattered herself.