Shadows eat these roses.
I watch them blacken, crumble, crash.
Petals falling as they wither,
each one quickly turns to ash.
But each one was a part of me,
now the wind carries them away.
Creating that sharp whisper,
words so hard to hear you say.
Thereís pressure ripping at my chest
I always felt because you knew.
And tears cut like glass
because all of it is true.
Now the softest petals cut like blades
and all beauty will be torn.
Every love rots out so ugly
and all roses have their thorns.
So soon thatís all weíll have,
A thorn thatís never cut so deep.
Iíll cover wounds up with infection,
but at least you wonít see me weak.
And you wonít see this blood
as it drips from my veins dark blue.
As it runs through stems like poison,
the same way it ran through you.
The same way it runs through me
until old toxins seep now from my skin.
While this flower wilts and dies
beneath this night its roots live in.