I am more than you know, streetlights and open roads, I am more than a face stuck living in one place. So call me California, call me what you will, because I am bigger than this place, and so far from alone. I don't believe in your hate, because these scars are gunna fade, so pour me out like water and soak me up like rain. Like a runaway, I spend these nights counting stars, like a runaway. And maybe I could call this home tonight?
I am more than you know, streetlights and open roads, I am more than a face stuck living in one place. So call me California, call me what you will, because I am bigger than this place, and so far from alone. I don't believe in your hate, because these scars are gunna fade, so pour me out like water and soak me up like rain. Like a runaway, I spend these nights counting stars, like a runaway. And maybe I could call this home tonight?
We are male and female. We are artists, athletes, and students. We have depression, PTSD, eating disorders, bipolar disorder, or maybe no diagnosis at all. Some of us were abused, some not. We come from all walks of life and can be any age. We are every race or religion that you can think of. Our common link is this: We are in pain. We self-injure. And we are not freaks.
