Confession: I wanted to fill your mouth with red roses I wanted to string daisies and words through your golden hair We were princesses growing up Or at least, we pretended we were The forest behind our house was the only palace we knew It was the only place we could feel pretty.
Confession: I never hated you like I said I did When we got into our big fights After you told everyone I drained my body of it's red wine Into the bathtub by the means of a blade. You may have been malicious in your intentions Or you may have been a kid who had no idea what to do I will always choose the latter.
Confession: Overdose felt like that razor was dancing across my forearm Once again. They could have been the same When the news cut through my eardrum I didn't feel anything I didn't cry at first But I drove for hours Occasionally screaming that this couldn't be real A feeling only an experienced cutter would know Like a familiar old friend.
Confession: I peaked when Mom told me not to look at you As your body lie face up in that wooden bed With ***** marks from the witch's needle Covering your arm like black and blue paint. She said you looked sick She said you didn't look like yourself Because you weren't. But you were still the same kind of beautiful You had always been Even in your illness Even in your addiction Even in your silence.