PSYCHO

She was raised in a house of broken glass, 

Where love was a fist or a scream. 

She learned that to care was to hold on tight, 

Like a nightmare inside of a dream. 

She wants to be free, 

to breathe and to run, 

She pours out her soul in a deep,

dark well, 

Into shadows that never last.

With a lie he shattered her world, 

He traded her heart for another’s touch, 

trust is a language she no longer speaks, 

turning her into a detective of her own grief,

trying to measure the depth of her pain,

she slides through his phone like a thief, 

searching for proof of her own grief. 

When the truth hits the light, 

she explodes like a storm, 

throwing things just to feel something break,

she wants to see the cause of this heartbreak.

She was never taught how to quiet the fire, 

Or how much a spirit can take.

She is left in the dark,

wondering how love turned into a cage, 

and why silence is such a loud sound. 

While she begs for the man who is gone. 

She is holding the ruins of a home built on sand, 

He tells all his friends that she’s psycho,

but he cuts every tie that he knew, 

and is running away from the truth. 

She’s trapped in the trauma, 

unable to leave, 

They are both creating chaos,

 one creates ghosts and the other just screams—