Don't tell me that you know what it feels like,

to be walloping in sweet, cold tears.

Don't tell me that the sun will never shine,

while you bask in the golden sun.

Don't tell me that you are hurting

because I see you smiling behind my back.

Don't tell me that things are gloomy,

I see you there and hear you laughing.

Don't tell me things are hell,

until you've really felt the pain.

Contact me later when you've had

bloody flowing from your wrist,

and tears falling down your face.