It Doesn't Hurt

So you screwed me over
and I guess I'll live.
It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt,
it doesn't hurt...

(That's your chant in times of trouble, isn't it?)

Tough skin, tougher heart,
the oldest, strongest sister.
Negativity personified,
not popular, or widely liked.

(To say the least, you're hated, bitch, hated...)

I'm the one who always
needs to be the protector.
Why can't someone protect me?
"Please, protect me..."

(You're cracking? Not so strong now, are we sweetie?)

No, I'm strong. Strong.
I refuse to accept anything else.
I've got to stand strong,
put up my defences. Don't touch me.

(Really? One hand running along your leg...spooked are we?)

I walked. Just walked away, didn't
want that. I wanted to go home.
I just left. "No money for a taxi?
It's five minutes away. Walk."

(That's it sweetie. Take the shortcut down the alley...)

Darkness, as I walked.
Shadows shifting, engulfing,
I don't feel safe. It's dark, and
there's rough hands. Grabbing...

(How lovely, fresh meat. This one's the youngest...)

"Please, no! Don't do that!"
Screams echo where nobody can hear.
I can feel him. He's pressing
against me. Something breaks inside me.

(Move your hips whore. Show me a good time...)

All I remember is lying
on the cold floor. My body is numb.
Where do I go? Does it matter?
I walk, I wander, I stumble.

(You were the best bitch. Sweet and young...)

Those words echo, through
my head. "Leave me alone!" I cry.
I shake, tripping. Lying on the ground.
I'll just stay here, whispering,

(Don't say a word about this, or I'll kill you...)

It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt.
It DOES hurt.