She sits in the corner, doesn't look up,
Ignoring the madness around.
They've already judged her, so what's the point?
She's silence and solitude bound.
She chews on her fingernails nervously,
Counting the seconds that pass.
She looses herself in the edge of a blade,
Or the numb of some soothing grass.
From her perspective nobody cares,
She's already dead to them.
From his perspective she's so sad,
But her, he doesn't condemn.
Through her eyes the world is cold,
And life isn't worth the chill.
But through his eyes she's everything
Even now he waits for her still.
