How ironic
that something so beautiful
as a rose, a symbol of love
has the thorns to make you bleed

How intriguing
that the three simple words
"I love you" can cut more
than any knife when you know it's a lie

There's no truth in your smile
your laughter sounds harsh now
and your frown like a sneer
because you never loved me

I looked at you through
rose colored glasses
(a rose again, how odd)
and I never saw the truth

It was roses you gave me
for Valentine's day
even though I told you
I don't really like them much

You left a little note with them
a promise to love me forever
I tore it up a while ago
once I saw how much you lied

It was roses that you spoke of
with your voice so fond
and I realize now
how much of a lie it was

Because a rose can cut
and you can love
the wrong person sometimes
and then love bleeds

Your heart twisting
the pain like an open wound
the lies digging in like glass
as tears fall unnoticed

No one ever dared
to speak out too loud
in case you might've heard
so I stopped listening

Oh, how I wish I hadn't
ignored the words of those
who tried to warn me
of the snake hidden behind your smile

And the way you would twist things
just enough hope
to make me ignore
all the ways it didn't add up

It was a rose
that made me bleed
a broken shard of glass
from your ****** gift

I curse your name now
something I used to praise
your looks are no longer something to smile at
and the memories hurt to think of

I wish I had remembered then
just how much a rose
like our "love"
can make you bleed