gave you, my world, my breath, myself, what is left to give? My heart is lost, you once took it for a walk, never returned with it, and know its lost, and who's fault was it? When broken glass scattered on the floor, when I can feel no agony, walking barefoot, it did not hurt that much. His words were toxic, but we listened stubbornly, getting addictive to his words. I'd tell you this, I scream more than a singer in a hardcore song, it is neither the pain nor the agony caused by our scars in our hearts, and it's just that we got used to it so much, that it became a habit of everyday. We scream with words , with our soul , with voices coming out of our mouth, there is nothing else to give , because we've lost control , and words came out , it was beautiful , it was not that much , but it made them glad, our tears slip out as we write .She would tare herself apart , I watch her , beg her , know she wouldn’t stop , they made her go mad ,and I feel bad, and I already said that .they said …. It brought the passion out…