I realized that you left me with a hollow heart,
that even the slightest knock makes a loud deafening sound.
My heart wasn't fragile, oh no, It was hard, cold and hollow.
On the outside, stems were growing, thorns were showing.

One time, someone tried to care for my heart,
to fill my heart,
to hold my heart,
but he left with bloodied hands and sorrowful eyes.

He pitied me.
I pitied me. 
I cried for me.
I woke up the next day for me,
and then I stopped feeling sorry for me myself.

Slowly, I searched for things that make me happy.
That bright yellow sunflower?
I picked it up and kept it in my heart.
That group shot with friends?
Printed it and shoved it inside my heart.
That smile on the girl's face whenever I look at the mirror?
I memorized it and sent it to my heart.

My heart is still isn't completely filled,
but it's getting there,
slowly filling up the hollowness you've cause.