Scars

I feel the pain, it gnaws at my flesh, straight to my bones

And no one hears my silent tears,

But what is there to crush when I'm made of ashes?

And I'm just listening my spirit's groans,

It wouldn't hurt this much if I got cut with shears...

And I no longer see any reflection in the mirror on the shelf

And all the saddness's resting in my lashes

You know what's funny? I thought I couldn't lose anything, because I lost myself.