They tell me Im pretty,
That I dont need to worry...
everything is fine

The razors cut deep into my pain
its ignored by them,

but this,
this keeps me sane

Its not stupid, a lie, or an exaggeration
Its the only thing I posess
The hatred I have for myself is fury,

Im evil, broken and tired.
No Im not a happy face
on a glossy photograph

Im broken, hurt, defiled.
C'mon smile! they say
Relax, they tell me

as the thorn enters the broken flower