Questions of a Victim

You thought you knew me, but you don't know anything at all
My arm shows a graphic picture of the days when I couldn't take it all
I tried to write but the words just wouldn't flow
This is the only way my pain can show.

Do you know what it's like to be stuck in a room,
Where no one can see you and you're to scared to move

Do you know what it's like to just sit and cry,
and not have a clue as to the reason why.

Do you know what it's like to go into a rage,
slice up your arms and not remember a thing the next day

Do you know what it's like to walk into a room,
and have people you care about tell you there's nothing wrong with you

Do you know what it's like to hide your arms,
because you don't want to explain about your physcial scars.

Do you know what it's like to carry the pain,
knowing that you're not normal and there's nothing anyone can do or say.

Do you know how it feels to depend on pills to make you feel whole,
even though in the back of your mind, you hold on to the fear that you'll overdose and die.

Do you know what it's like to have CPS called,
because some nosey nurse said you throw knifes at your son.

Do you know what it's like to feel inner pain and not have anyone but yourself to blame.

Do you know what it's like to want to die,
but you just can't do it and you don't understand why.

Do you know what it's like to give up custody of your kid,
because you don't want him to go through the same shit that you did.

Do you know how it feels to be told that you don't deserve your son,
when you haven't done anything wrong.

Do you know how it feels not to give a fuck,
cause nothing you do will ever add up

Do you know how it feels to pray,
to give you the strength to get through each day

Do you know how it feels to have guys run away,
for you being you,
after they find out the truth

Do you know how it feels to be filled with pain,
and all you want is for it to go away.

Do you know what it's like to hear voices in your head,
telling you your worthless and you'd be better off dead.

Do you know how it feels to start believing these lies,
cause that's what you heard your entire life.

Do you know how it feels not to be able to,
open up to someone who is payed to help you out

You keep your pain inside and tell them that everything is fine,
then you go home to cry and befriend the knife.

If you don't know what it's like,
then don't judge me,
because you just got fucking lucky.