My skin is like a garden, I keep digging up the dirt,
Just to see my red roses grow, and then hide them under a shirt.
I don't show my flowers to anyone, the beauty is just for me,
In other people's eyes, they are just some ugly, horrible weeds.
I don't like to dig up my garden;
But the ground will never be healed,
My roses are filled with darkness,
And nobody knows how I feel.