He turned my colour from pink to black.
He ripped me off my skin. Now I'm sad.
The moon rises as my tears start to fall,
I need a blanket, fluffy and warm.
No candy - cocktails, no pink champagne,
No meds, no liquors can numb my pain.
Honey, my resiliance makes me a queen bee.
I'm immaculate, you'll never have power over me.
You wanted to break me but I'm stronger than you.
In deep sadness I've practiced how to look through
My wounded heart until I find my own soul.
It's transcending, ascending, it is fine, gold.
When I'll die I will be wiser and more conscious than yet.
You will die just as an dumb and ugly old man.