When my finger met the paper, in a brief love affair, it took my blood as a trophy.
Then the red droplets created a beautiful mess as they sank into the dead white wood.
It stung badly, and it continued to hurt as I went on a mission to find a bandage that
could keep the crimson art inside of me, instead of spilling it everywhere.
When I wiped the excess blood away I saw nothing, yet I was still in pain.
But what hurts the most right now is my heart, because just like I couldn’t
see the papercut, you can’t see my broken heart either, and it is bleeding heavily.
Because of you.
And I can’t seem to find a bandage big enough to heal the
hole you left in my dying heart.

Waiting for the night to come.
Waiting for the light to disappear.
Waiting for the cold to make me numb.
Waiting for the thick mist to clear.

Waiting for the new day called tomorrow.
Waiting for the tears to dry.
Waiting for you to say hello.
Waiting for you born in gemini.

Waiting for the night to end.
Waiting for the darkness to die out.
Waiting for the sun to make me amend.
Waiting forever for you without doubt.

Waiting for the fear to hurt.
Waiting for the pain to ****.
Waiting for my world to invert.
Waiting for my sleeping pill.

I’ve been waiting for all my life.
For you to never say **goodbye.

She’s sweet and kind.
She’s smiling and laughing.
No one sees her frame of mind.
No one hears her heart cracking.

She’s beautiful and thin.
She’s popular and smart.
No one feels her evil twin.
No one sees her fake heart.

She loves her family and friends.
She loves animals and strangers.
No one notice her mind of cleanse.
Those around don’t feel the danger.

The time is near.
To see her other side.
Everyone feels fear.
They're afraid to be alive.

Sweet and kind changes to evil and cruel.
She have the laughter of the devil.
She is cutting the flesh with an edge tool.
The feeling of insanity is so special.

The ****** path she chose.
She is in a whole other world.
Smelling the black rose.
Her thoughts is swirled.

Black.
Red.
Light won't come back.
The victims of her bloodshed.

Her heart remains enclosed in darkness.
The colour of her mind is pitch black.
She is truly heartless.
She won’t and can’t turn back.

Her life was just a plain cover.
This is her true colour.

Cold steel chains
Constricting pain
Burning sensations
Sanity slain

Heavy weight
Against my skin
Unforgiving
Relentless head-spin

Dry bloodstains
A malicious mark
Guilty as charged
*Repeat, restart

Black* *sky and dark *night
gives stars a shining light.

If I gave you my heart on a big silver platter
would you sit with me here at the edge of the moon
Arranging the stars in a musical pattern
singing along as they whistle their tune

Then could we climb up a peppermint tower
counting each stripe that we touched as we rose
Looking out over the valley in slumber
trying to guess the sweet dreams that they chose

Maybe then sail on an ocean of petals
riding each wave made of marigold leaves
Dropping our anchor just next to the garden
tied to a web that an old spider weaves

Or we might pick up a brush filled with laughter
painting a kite on the chuckling skies
Run with the string as a masterpiece follows
chasing a tail laced with blue butterflies

Kiss in a rainstorm of umbrella whispers
splashing in puddles reflecting your smile
Wake up the sun as it snoozes till lunchtime
rest in the shade holding hands for a while

If I gave you my heart on a big silver platter
showing you life is a beautiful view
Promising all you could ever imagine
would you give me your heart on a big silver platter… too

Thinking.
Sitting.
With my hand on my right cheek.
With my feet on a freak.

Queen.
Unforeseen.
Feeling alone and ice cold.
On the uncomfortable throne.

Waiting.
Suffocating.
The one I can call king.
The loneliness inside.

Seeing.
Hearing.
Suffering of my people.
Screams in fear of the lethal pain.

Feeling
Kneeling.
The smooth and soft skin.
Under the mighty crown.

Sleeping.
Keeping.
With pain and fear.
The stone I call a heart.

Torturing.
Smiling.
Until death ends it all.
When causing agony.

Vessel
Devil.
Of my victims tears.
They call me the Queen with the black crown.