Story of a Girl
Schism
The world means nothing
to the girl in her room
The one whose sanity
Has long since flown
Accused and guilty
Of nothing at all
She must punish herself
For another's fault
Still blamed and followed
By the ruthless ghost
Of a choice baked poorly
From a year ago
Each time she smiles
Each time she laughs
Some one feels the need to remind her
The she has a past
That she's the one guilty
She's the one to blame
She's the reason for hurt
And the spark to the flame
Thought the effect was inevitable
And there was good intent
There was hurt occurring
So there was a finger to be pointed
There wasn't a trial
Only a sentence
There was no investigation
Since the guilty was apparent
No one bothered to understand
They all jumped to conclusions
Those who asked for the story
Did it with tape recorders in their hands
After seeing the headlines
And hearing the news
The girl started to believe
That the tabloids were true
She set up a mask
To hide from the world
So the reporters would catch
An emotionless girl
She swallowed her words
That leaked out of her eyes
Rubbed raw and sore
From being soaked every night
She wore sunglasses to match
Her mask and her muzzle
For her swollen, irritated eyes
Were the windows to her soul
She told herself she was guilty
Everything was her fault
How could she, what was wrong with her?
She was a monster, after all
What she thought was her conscience
Told her she was a horrible, ugly sadist
Or any other synonyms
That she couldn't list
But in the back of her head
Every time she hated herself
She felt what happened justifiable
And everyone else could go to hell
The conflict inside of her
Drove ever last bit of life
That wanted to live
Out of mind and sight
She hated herself, and the people
Who thought she was to blame
Because she knew she wasn't the wrong
But she felt guilty anyways
No one understood her intentions
Were for mutual sanity
The whole lot of hypocrites
Were too bend upon 'unity'
Without passing a thought
They all looked to her, asking
'How did you screw up this time?'
Wanting an explanation, but not actually listening
All the crap they all dish
About choosing good friends
And making new, better ones
When they open their mouths, the words fall out already dead
to the girl in her room
The one whose sanity
Has long since flown
Accused and guilty
Of nothing at all
She must punish herself
For another's fault
Still blamed and followed
By the ruthless ghost
Of a choice baked poorly
From a year ago
Each time she smiles
Each time she laughs
Some one feels the need to remind her
The she has a past
That she's the one guilty
She's the one to blame
She's the reason for hurt
And the spark to the flame
Thought the effect was inevitable
And there was good intent
There was hurt occurring
So there was a finger to be pointed
There wasn't a trial
Only a sentence
There was no investigation
Since the guilty was apparent
No one bothered to understand
They all jumped to conclusions
Those who asked for the story
Did it with tape recorders in their hands
After seeing the headlines
And hearing the news
The girl started to believe
That the tabloids were true
She set up a mask
To hide from the world
So the reporters would catch
An emotionless girl
She swallowed her words
That leaked out of her eyes
Rubbed raw and sore
From being soaked every night
She wore sunglasses to match
Her mask and her muzzle
For her swollen, irritated eyes
Were the windows to her soul
She told herself she was guilty
Everything was her fault
How could she, what was wrong with her?
She was a monster, after all
What she thought was her conscience
Told her she was a horrible, ugly sadist
Or any other synonyms
That she couldn't list
But in the back of her head
Every time she hated herself
She felt what happened justifiable
And everyone else could go to hell
The conflict inside of her
Drove ever last bit of life
That wanted to live
Out of mind and sight
She hated herself, and the people
Who thought she was to blame
Because she knew she wasn't the wrong
But she felt guilty anyways
No one understood her intentions
Were for mutual sanity
The whole lot of hypocrites
Were too bend upon 'unity'
Without passing a thought
They all looked to her, asking
'How did you screw up this time?'
Wanting an explanation, but not actually listening
All the crap they all dish
About choosing good friends
And making new, better ones
When they open their mouths, the words fall out already dead