sometimes it's not about the tears shed

even though they are

it's not about how deep your wounds lead

even if they lead to your heart

it's not about the words left unsaid

or what you did in the dark

it's not about the deafening dread 

or the deep and winding scars 

it's not about when you looked overhead 

and begged for a peace like the stars 

It's not about when you wished you were dead 

cause you didn't think love could reach that far 

it isn't about when for death you pled 

cause you were oh so weary and tired

but it's about the times instead

when you looked and felt with your heart 

so yeah there will be times your heart must be shred 

like they slammed you against sharp shards 

because though you may be mislead 

 everything seems cold and hard 

and it's easier to lean your head 

to rest at the barrel of firearms

but don't,

even if it'd be easier if you had fled 

or maybe draw red lines up your arm 

like the sickness can only spread 

and you would much rather just carve

to make designs

of worthless lines 

to show others how you feel

but it doen't help, no it will not help 

until you finally learn how to heal