Not the kind that leaves bruises and marks on your skin
Not the broken glass and blood
Not the hiding under baggy clothes and make up
The kind where you're not sure
But every day you feel a little worse
Like sinking in the sand but the struggle doesn’t help
You blame yourself
But there is nothing to see here
No sticks and stones
But words that always hurt me
Not the broken glass and blood
Not the hiding under baggy clothes and make up
The kind where you're not sure
But every day you feel a little worse
Like sinking in the sand but the struggle doesn’t help
You blame yourself
But there is nothing to see here
No sticks and stones
But words that always hurt me
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