Darling I don't know why you look so sad,
when you have the world in the palm of your hands.
Just cause it's not on your shoulders anymore,
doesn't mean it's shattered on the floor.

Darling why are you still flying high
when everything on ground is going fine?
Why are these tissues scattered across the floor
when you said you couldn't cry anymore?

Hiding behind the bedroom door,
sits a bloodred towel on a bloodstained floor.
A razor is concealed behind a hidden drawer.
Darling you said you wouldn't do that anymore.

In your journal you've written your final letters.
Your wills and your wishes.
Your apologies and forgiveness.

You told everyone you loved them
and that they weren't to blame.

But darling please tell me,
would it have been this way,
if all your life you'd been told
what you wrote them that day..?