Hand me a brush let me paint you a picture of how I want you to see me you don't have to know what happens behind these closed doors
you can say what you wanna say but it's not going away do you hear me when I speak? can you lift me when I'm weak? can you feel it when I hurt? tell me does this mean to you what it means to me?
What if I ripped out the pages of this story just to rewrite it, rearrange all the pieces until they fit You don't even know how good it makes me feel when I see you glow
