Her empty heart, this deadly start.
Walked into danger once that scar formed on her wrist.
Her story lies untold;
forever she hides it all
Her scary dream,
her nightmare appears
before her eyes:
This cant be happening,
This cant be happening,
This isnt happening.

Alas, my dear, forever it is real.
If only you were lying...

Her heart aches, its filled with nothing but emptiness.
Her discreet imagination,
This great invention.
Will it help?
Will it help?
She took another pill,
Will it help?
Will it help?
One turns into two,
two to three,
three to fourty.
Will this hurt?
Will this hurt?
Will it kill?
Will it end me?

Fortunatley dear, this amazing intersection
never will it involve your failed invention,
your strange imagination,
forever it will stay apart.

But there is someone else,
with a needle and a roll of thread.
And you lay almost dead,
will the pillbox going thin;
She grabs her deadly box and tucks it in her pocket,
threads the thread through the needle,
ties a knot and hold a tight grip,
then sews her heart back in carefully,
Stitched it back in.

Then she gets back up, now alive.
Now with tears in her eyes.
Feels her heart start to beat.
She looks up,
sees her smiling at her.
She cant beleive she saved her life,
then she softly kisses her cheek.