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My thumb doesn’t bleed anymore No longer a fiend for the pain you caused me Because I’m away from you You broke my uterus and left I sewed it together Now I have button eyes and hydrophobic ends that fear comfort of a touch That blood used to drip down when I was around you Now the scar wounds smile back at me

The price of his actions will become your trauma Wishing I could invoice him a penny for every drop of blood I lost A dollar for every bruise you left A dime for every lie I told for him

God can you die off our show yet? Sorry I don’t touch broke men anymore How many more sob stories are you going to tell my friends about what I did to you? Grow a pair and pick up the phone Our pseudo sexual love story Sneak dissing me on Tuesday mornings cause you have nothing better to do