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 taste my heavy heart on my lips.
Smell the smoke.
Touch the scars.
I've grown into the person I swore I'd never become.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
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 taste my heavy heart on my lips.
Smell the smoke.
Touch the scars.
I've grown into the person I swore I'd never become.
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