It changes to what it was,
back to what it has always been,
damaged pieces glued.
Sadly we’re now at a place where
we’ll never be at a place where we could
think back and laugh at our stupidity,
because who you were; abused who I am.
The little girl you knew died a thousand times…
over and over again.
She’s had to tell herself all the kind words
the world and love were too busy to do.
The pain would have kept on, dealing with you.
I knew that, but I thought
putting hope in you wouldn't cause any damage.
So to my dear little fighter, to this heart of mine,
you’ll always get the blame,
but thank you anyways for growing in places
that rarely nurtured.