Night 2
They don't send ambulances for broken hearts, just broken bodies
We cry for help and when it doesn't come
We assume we must break our bones, we must make the outside reflect how it feals within
Maybe then they will send help
Maybe then they'll listen
Maybe then they'll believe us when we say it hurts
Why does blood have to spill to make my pain look real
Why do people wait till we puncture our skin to worry about the trouble within
I wish we treated broken hearts like broken bones
I wish they send ambulances for bleeding souls
