I am a product of my past pain and a jar of secrets.
I wonder if they notice my laughter and smiles; so fake.
I hear pain in happiness and music in silence.
I want someone who will see my scars, but won't try to open them.
I am a product of my past pain and a jar of secrets.
I pretend to be someone I am not, just to avoid questions.
I feel the sunshine from afar, as it slowly moves towards me.
I touch the scars on my heart and then,
I worry about what they will think.
I cry when my mask slips and the pain drizzles out.
I am a product of my past pain and a jar of secrets.
I understand that I cannot be perfect, yet strive for nothing less.
I say that what I am and what others say I am are two completely different things.
I dream of love so strong that it knocks my walls down and spins my world around.
I try to leave the past in the past, but it isn't as easy as it sounds.
I hope my heart, broken, crushed, and wounded is going to feel happiness again.
I am a product of my past pain and a jar of secrets.
