When he found her she was coiled up on the dirty tile floor;
just laying there in her pretty new dress.
Except that pretty new dress didn’t look quite so new anymore;
It had scuff marks on it from people stepping on it who pretended to care.
As she starts to trust them;
comes out in her pretty new dress,
even though it shows the scars from the pain of her past;
the ones she’s hidden from everyone.
She shows these people because she doesn’t think they’ll judge her.
It was the only way she seems to be able to bear the pain on her shoulders;
so she’d stay up late at night making deep cuts that would take away the pain.
She swore they did.

And that night, the night he found her.
She fell in love, she felt okay enough to get up off that floor;
he let her breath again.
She could feel like a little fairy, it felt exhilaratingly, amazing.
She felt like she could touch the moon. She had a home she could go to when feeling down.
He would sew up the broken spots, hold her, and let her cry until she could no more;

He kept urging her to tell him everything.
She’d whisper so lightly that you couldn’t hear her unless you were right beside next to her.
She’d tell him he wouldn’t be able to handle it all; he’d think she were a freak.
He crossed his heart hope to die, swore that wasn’t true;
so she lost her walls in all of this madness;
she let them down and exposed herself to him.
He slowly started to retreat without her realizing.

He thought she was a freak.
He couldn’t handle it
People say it’s wrong for her to blame him.
They agreed she started depending on him too much;
he couldn’t be the only person she talked to.

What the hell did you think was going to happen?
She trusted him, felt safe with him.
Apparently, you can’t trust someone to much.
Seven months later she’s lying on this dirty, nasty tile floor,
except this time she’s without her pretty dress
to hide the most hideous scars of all.