How Many More Cuts Have To Decorate My Skin.
Blending In After They Heal
People Don't Know They Hide When No One Is Watching
They Are Ashamed To Be Seen
Its Like When Ever They Feel Safe
And Know That Another One Is Not Going To Reside Next To Them
They Think The Worst Is Over And I'm Healed From That Sickness
Of Etching How I Feel In To My Brown Skin
How Many More Cuts Do There Have To Be
For Someone To Recognize The Pain I'm In
The Emotional Turmoil My Heart Is In
The Thoughts That Run Through Me Mind Everyday
Why Can't They See That I'm Withdrawing From Everyone
Moving Further Away So No One Can See
The Fresh Art That Paints My Skin Red.