My shoulders hurt from carrying the weight of their problems.

My ears are filled with their secrets,

But my back is bleeding from their blades.

I’m a maid, always cleaning up the junk that they shove into their brains.

I have a problem to tell, but the moment they get the chance, it’ll be thrown in my face.

When I shake their hand and walk away, it’s then that I suffer from back pain.

I just want to crack it, and release all of its ach, but I’m not that way.

No matter how many times I wind up on the wrong end of their blade, I’ll keep what they have stored in the safety of my mental aid.

I’ve been stabbed in the back by my closest friends, but because of me their stress came to its end.

I hold all their embarrassment, feelings and emotion no matter what, but when it comes to helping me, well it just depends on the length of their cut.

Crying in the dark I am there with a light to comprehend what they have built up, but because of all this back pain, they might have a funeral to attend.

Don’t worry though, I’ll have their back, but no longer will they have knives to put into mine. 

I won’t feed them the gas to spread the fire they have against me, but I’ll dampen the flames others have on them.

I need to sit down and let myself heal, but the moment I stop I’ll forever be sitting still.

The burdens will crush me if I don’t keep moving.

I’ll bleed out if I let these wounds control me.

A soreness in my throat from I am keeping secrets for them.

A sour taste is left when they go and make up lies.

When I hear them talking behind my back it makes more scars to hide.

Say it to my face, so my back can have a break.

Oh, but that’d mean they’d be giving up the one thing keeping them sane.

It’s hard to deal with all of this back pain.