Stars twinkle and night's here,
I'm leaning to the windows,
Pouring my souls to clear conscious;
I'll share my pain, my sorrow and my fears,
I'll romanticize my desire and my frailty.
But never do I venture through,
The provocation of suicidal and depression.
For the thoughts and drive of pain weren't beautiful,
The desires of depression and suicide weren't romantic;
I'll be here for your wounds,
Never would I let you leave,
With that scar in your heart.