Broken Thing

When I couldn't take it anymore
I'd go in the bathroom and lock the door
and think of the choices before me
what the cabinet holds
but I always did as I was told
am I a broken thing?

When the fight began I had nowhere to go
so I closed my eyes and turned up the stereo
The way a voice can tell stories
it's not supposed to tell
I keep my secrets and keep them well
am I a broken thing?

But I pretend everything's ok
the bruises are under my clothes
and only the mirror knows
am i a broken thing?