Sweet Relief of the Needle and Thread

It's like your some disease that
scarred me for life,
and no matter how many doctors try to fix me,
I cry myself to sleep....
every night.

Surgeries one after the other
dissecting my broken heart
only to find that after six months
the wounds have gotten just deeper
and whats worse?
You were the doctor.

Masked by the innocent smile
and that sheen in your eyes
that bored into mine
blinding me into safety
and your little assistant stood by
waiting with yet another knife.

And yet as I scream and thrash there's nothing left to take
because even if your assistant can make me happy
I have no reason to smile
because no one can smile without a heart

And my heart,
my heart is broken.