I cut myself shaving, and the blood runs down my leg.
I stare at it, transfixed, and then water washes it away.
I think it was supposed to hurt, but it really wasn’t bad…
The pain feels nice compared to all the mental pain I’ve had.

In the sink the blood drips, falling into water,
Diluting my pain, straight from my veins,
I’m not my mother’s daughter.
In my head the pain dulls, numbing me for a while.
The pain is mine until she finds,
What’s happened to her child.

My body is a story, about my painful past.
Each scar serves as a memory, but scars, they never last.
Looking up and down my arms, remembering those tears,
The lies and secrets covered up, and no one knows my fears.

In the sink the blood drips, falling into water,
Diluting my pain, straight from my veins,
I’m not my mother’s daughter.
In my head the pain dulls, numbing me for a while.
The pain is mine until she finds,
What’s happened to her child.

My sleeves, they cover up my arms, and have for many years.
No one sees what I have done, any more than they see my tears.
I sit here in my bedroom, isolated in my home,
Wishing I could see my friends, I feel so all alone.

In the sink the blood drips, falling into water,
Diluting my pain, straight from my veins,
I’m not my mother’s daughter.
In my head the pain dulls, numbing me for a while.
The pain is mine until she finds,
What’s happened to her child.

Every day I stay here, I feel more trapped inside.
I wonder if they’d notice, if they’d care if I just died.
When the only thing that makes me happy is being with my friends,
I wonder how much longer it will be until it ends.

In the sink the blood drips, falling into water,
Diluting my pain, straight from my veins,
I’m not my mother’s daughter.
In my head the pain dulls, numbing me for a while.
The pain is mine until she finds,
What’s happened to her child.