Those blood shot eyes They tell the story of her existence The story of all the pain and sorrow And how little happiness she’s experienced The tear stained pillows Are the reminders that she’s living in hell That nothing ever works out That she’s the reason for everyone’s problems The constant need for physical pain To cover up the emotional Are the signs that no one picks up on Even though they’re right there in front of their eyes Eventually the signs will disappear Eventually there has to be a high Of either life Or death