Staring down at the ground,
I refuse to make a sound.
Tears well within my eyes,
I remember when he is used to call me Sweetie Pie.
This pain just won’t seem to heal,
I no longer have an appetite at daily meals.

The feeling follows me around,
Not even making a sound.
I wish there was a way to get well,
But it seems as if I had fell,
From my glorious life.
Now all I can see is a knife.
But I refuse to give in,
I will keep my healthy skin.

The hurt he made me feel,
Is almost enough to make me squeal.
One day I hope to feel well again,
Because I am smart I have a brain.
I refuse to harm myself,
The old me sits on a shelf.
One day I will her unlock her,
Right now my life seems like a blur.