Scars

For my sickness and my health, I cry for help again.

I don’t know how to live this life with daggers in my skin.

This sickness carves its name in me,

A ghost I never chose to be.

I need some fucking help just learning how to live.

this sickness cuts like knives with nothing left to give.

Telling tales of twisted ails,

With scars too deep for skin to show.

We wear them loud and call it hope,

On islands split by sun and snow.

Screaming 'til my stomach bleeds, singing through the pain I hide.

Smiling just to patch the cracks, but it never lasts inside.

Telling tales of twisted ails,

With scars too deep for skin to show.

We wear them loud and call it hope,

On islands split by sun and snow.

If you hear me screaming, let it be a sign—

That I loved you even when I couldn’t love this life.

I never meant to drag you through my hell,

But I’m drowning in a version of myself.

Telling tales of healing fails, the soul still bleeding slow.

We wear them loud and call it hope,

On islands split by sun and snow.