f o r m a ✖ c h a r t a

butchered

Dear Heartache,
Why won’t you go away to somewhere else?
I need a place to feel safe,
For you have left me in craze.

I keep on saying that I’m fine,
   And that nothing can bring me down,
   Spending every single day faking a smile,
   You just hit the queen on the crown.

So I chopped my hair off,
     Letting the butcher do his job,
     My black strands falling on the ground,
     Because I could not cut my heart out.

(Oh, how, I wish I could.)

Dear Heartache,
I do not understand why you stayed,
I need a cure to get away,
For you have left me in wait.

So I chopped my hair off,

     Letting the butcher do his job,
     My black strands falling on the ground,

     Black strands falling on the ground,
     Because I could not cut my heart out.

Cut my heart out.

Chop, chop, chopping them off.
Off, off, off the strands off to the ground.

 

To Mr. J.