Silent was the girl with her long black bangs With her worn grey notebook full of thoughts She was always the wallflower at the party She was always the one they all forgot.
Her classmates all left her quite alone She did not mind, she liked it like that And sometimes they'd see her smiling to herself As she sat writing, her fingers smudged black.
Chorus 1: But why does she cry so hard at night Why does she clench her teeth so tight To hold back her wracking sobs And why is her book so full of pain Filled with tears that fell like rain And when will she... feel she belongs...
Once she had someone who cared for her Her muse, her love, her joy, her friend. A person who would stroke her long black bangs But he laughed at her, sneered at her, tricked her,
and she was never the same after that.
Chorus 2: That's why she cries so hard at night That's why she clenches her teeth so tight And holds back her wracking sobs That's why her book is so full of pain Filled with tears that fell like rain And that's why she doesn't... feel she belongs...
Maybe she'd find her way someday Maybe another would make her gay But now, she's still waiting...
Chorus 3: So why does she cry so hard at night Now you know why does delight Never touch her pale white face And why is my book so much like hers Filled with painful falls of tears I'm still waiting... to feel I belong...
chiiyo's comments :
Don't be mistaken, this isn't me. At least, not anymore, and not entirely, I don't deny that some parts of it was based on my own experiences. It's really just about a girl who got hurt once, and had not yet recovered, who sought solace in writing, who would cry herself to sleep at night. I believe there must be quite a few of them out there, me included, in one part of my life, at least. In a way, that experience is both painful and magical. I still ponder at the intensity of emotions I felt when I was depressed, and thus, the intensity of the poetry I wrote. I doubt I could ever experience that same intensity again.