i'm broke not broken

but hardly out spoken

on my thoughts, of you

if i was asked, even once

to say the name of who i love

i'd only answer

"do i have to"

with the patterns of this ink on my skin

i'm really not sure where to begin

it seems like everyday, it changes again

so the only way for me to start

is by removing the tattoos from my heart

that you painted, when you got under my skin

i believe that when i am down

it will leave when i leave this town

yeah i know that when i go,

you might not be okay

i can see that i have much to learn

cuts and ink aren't the same as a burn

it all seems right

when i get high

because it makes me feel like i am alive

it doesn't matter what they say

it shouldn't have to be this way

i know, i wish it wasn't so.

but if you think about me any old day

you denied me when i tried to say

i want to stay.

but you walked away,

my heart was only a canvas for you to play.