it's a damn cold nighteveryday she walks in the door ashamedlays on her bed and stares at the cielingwishing herself away from the slow townhe walks in and doesn't speak a wordthe screaming starts and she fights backfists are thrown and blood drips downshe hates how she's a part of himthat the monster's blood is in her veinsshe sees it as a reason to live betterher friends wish they could helpeven when she says things are alrightbut the bruises give her away everytimecrying out loud in a silent roomshe calls out for anyone to just listenshe's tired of keeping silent everytimeher hands shaking, barely able to workshe calls the number while blood smearscrying she tells them, 'my dad did this.'
in my beginning is my end.just think about it.when did i start becoming a mess. how did i ever learn what it's like to hate your reflection. at what point did i start tripping on air and falling into lies that i so easily accepted. when did i wake up in the middle of the night and tell myself my life wasn't worth a damn thing. how did i learn that life can be such a cold unforgiving place. what point did i start punching walls and breaking my hands just to feel something that was real. how did i find out that in one moment your life can fall to pieces. when did i find out how hard it is to breathe when your heart's been ripped out.at what point did i meet you.