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This little house we lived in keeps getting smaller and smaller, the walls keep falling on me, and the hands you wraped around my heart still remain.
Stop squeezing my heart, my feelings are pooring out and im screaming all about this little room.
How can you make me feel this way everytime I you talk to me and everytime you touch me.
When can you leave and let me be who I can be not who you make me.
Because theres to much anger in me about to over flow and explode.
All these scars up and down my legs and arms and my stomic make me wish I never met you.
this little is just me now not you but it still gets smaller everytime the walls close in on me.
Get you hands off my heart