she’s gagged and she’s bound and everything hurts
trying to believe it won’t keep getting worse
with the moments that pass and the days that grow longer
making her wish she could simply be stronger
but she swallows the pain as she puffs out her cheeks
for the clock on the wall has been frozen for weeks
but it makes little difference in the place where she stays
to the demons who taunt her and won’t go away
and the dreams that she dreamed and the wishes she’s wished
have been boiled and reduced to just wanting to fix
all the misunderstandings inside of her head
that all scream and all whisper she’s better off dead.
there’s a flower that’s blooming by the window sill
she admires in moments where she can be still
and she hopes that the summer will let the bloom thrive
and she prays that the two of them both can survive
through the bite of the winter that chaps at her skin
while she wonders how she found this mess that she’s in
for the problems are stupid, the struggles naive
and it seems not to matter she’s fighting to breathe
and the ones who would love her remain at a loss
that she trembles in silence, no matter the cost
they’ll never believe that it’s for their own good
this feeling inside – she’d spare them if she could.
the blouse that she’s wearing is covered in stains
from the places she’s bleeding to get through the pain
but the stitches and sutures hold only so far
and no matter the artwork, there’ll still be a scar
to detract from the value that she’s never had
she’d be fine if the pain didn’t hurt her so bad
so she turns to the Bible in hopes that a look
will reveal some great mystery there in the book
but the words bleed together, the lines are immense
and the concept within it just doesn’t make sense
so she rips through the pages in search for her own
fearing none of it matters – she wants to go home
there’s gotta be something she’s supposed to do first
but she’s gagged and she’s bound, and everything hurts.
