And as the kicks in my stomach seem to leave bruises,they won't hurt as much as the words that come out their mouths
And as the tears that stream down my face seem to dampen my sheets, the waves of these thoughts seem to be drowning me
And as the paintings I make surround my walls, the real artwork is on my skin
And as the smiles I draw are across my face, what lies beneath is what I hate
And as I sleep this lonely night, what once seemed to function seems to be broken
