I knew of it, of course
when you decided I lose touch
then treat me like a mock
you used to befriend and such
then one morning you were gone
I knew of it, of course
but the hurt be fixed repeat
when disgust was in your eyes
in your voice a shameful scoff
I bled then patched it up
but desired you didn't laugh
a joke was made of me
your friends were insanity
I knew you liked to bleed
I knew of it
of course
I have known but it hurt still.