there are roses growing
from my hands
My doubt the seeds
Begging them to grow

There are roses climbing
up my arms
digging in my skin
but i am numb
to their thorns and beauty

There are roses growing
in my lungs
bloodied petals
filling my throat
and falling from my lips

Tears are sliding
down my cheeks
I've had enough
I am to weak

I'm afraid of what others think
And what they will see
I'm not perfect at all
I'm scared to be me

So many faults
Too many I'm afraid
Not happy at all
With choices I've made

Life moves along
It's direction can be swayed
Don't care what others think
It's your life don't be afraid

Thrown into the drakness where i fought to survive
Holding onto hope like im on the frontlines
Theirs no denying all the pain inside
So i make another cut just to feel alive.
They say pain is for the weak, id have to disagree
but the pain in loving you gots me all shades of fifty
Ah no no
Ill tell you about my sickness & how i feel inside
Itll make your skin crawl while you run in hide

That one with the long dress
But no glitter can cover her mess
Only the pointiest of heels and clavicle
To puncture the victims of this cannibal
Her chameleon skin fits her whimsy
Mean girl musings, her character is flimsy
Only stupid, most trusting of men fall for her charm
Men I've loved, destined to repeat her harm
An Impressionist painting, she's so pretty from afar
Close-up, she's the ugliest, most painful part of his memoir