• A thousand words float in the wind,
    And my scream is as silent as the words.

    I press the blade to my wrist,
    I bite my lip,
    I bleed tears,
    And moan the sound of a thousand tortured souls.

    A hundred birds circle overhead,
    And my tears are as lovely as their soft down feathers.

    I touch my cheek and whisper,
    To my own heart,
    My own soul
    And I wind a lock of hair around my wrist.

    A million flowers wave in the wind,
    And my laugh is as light as their petals.

    I kiss my fingertips,
    And sing the love of a thousand ancient souls,
    And I stroke the scars I'll always have,
    Cuz they're imprinted on my heart.