She finds herself crying in the corner of her room,
blaming herself for everything.
Dreadful tears keep running down her face,
burying herself in agony.
She screams inside, shouting for help.
And it's slowly killing her.
She's seeking for attention,
yet keep ignored.
Her life is a misery,
full of pretendings and grief.
As she tries to pull herself back in,
the wound inside of her gets deeper and deeper.
I could see her from a distance,
she is my silhouette.
Yes, she is me.
I am she.
