My cut turned into a burn
when he ran his hand over my arm.
I didn't know what to say,
but he knew how I felt that day.

I felt like I should go die.
I felt like a stranger in my own home.
It's a place where I can't even cry.
It's a place where no one leaves me alone.

Comforted only by my pillow
at night, I cry myself to sleep.
Silent cries from a broken heart
because of a promise he couldn't keep.

When I go to bed, I wish that god
would let me sleep forever.
Emotional pain has become physical.
I can't take another failed endeavor.

In the bathroom, the shower
isn't the only thing that rains.
My tears are covered, no one can hear.
Take my life, end this pain.

I'm not worthy enough to be loved,
only good enough to be used.
My way of relieving emotion
is a guilty pleasure that I abuse.