My being is damaged; scattered to a million pieces,
There is nothing fixing what have already been done.
It is like someone smashes me to pieces when I sleep,
Leaving me to pick them up when I wake up.

Every time I do, I cut myself on the pieces that once was my being,
But I do not care since I’m broken to begin with.
I try to put the pieces together, so I can go on with my day,
Even if you can see the pain my eyes.

Even if you ask me how I am doing, how I feel this particular day,
I will say that everything is okay, pretending you can’t see the cracks.
I can feel my facade slipping away, further and further as the day goes on,
And I know that you can see my heart and my soul.

You can see how broken down I am inside, all the bruises on my very soul,
And you might ask yourself how I came to be this way.
Then you look at me, into my eyes that are just like a glassy lake,
I break down and asks if it is okay that I give up.