Rolling up her sleeves,
She leaned against the bathroom door,
Crying her heart out, questioning,
"Should I cut once more?"

Believe me, she's trying,
Not to give in, but inside she's dying.
The feeling she hates slowly crawls up her spine.
and she does it again, to her body that was once divine.

Rolling up her sleeves,
She sees the way she's marked.
Waiting for someone; someone to care,
To bring her out of the dark,

Rolling up her sleeves,
He kisses them, one by one.
Tears rolling down her eyes,
She asks him "How come?"

Let's battle it out together, he says.
Without waiting for her to speak,
She hugs him tightly, not letting go,
When she saw him slowly, rolling up his sleeves.