Alice was a quiet girl
She did everything right.
Followed all the rules
Never did she fight.

Alice seemed flawless
But oh how they were wrong.
Years of resentment
Boiling up inside of her.

Silenced by humanity
Shunned by her own life.
The only thing that could heal the pain
Was the good old kitchen knife.

Bleeding her soul
And painting on her flesh.
Alice thought of suicide,
A thought not so fresh.

Her father was a drunk
Her mother was a whore.
Alice needed something
To soothe the open sore.

There were nights
When Alice thought she'd die.
But something deep inside of her
Refused to say goodbye.

Instead of etching out the feelings
She wrote them all down.
Instead of releasing it on herself,
She let the anger drown.

Alice has a goal
To make things right.
Alice made a choice
To heal the hurt tonight.

Now Alice knows better
She grows stronger everyday.
She deals with her problems
Instead of cutting them away.