Not an ordinary storybook,
ripped and ragged outside edges,
scribbles of what i was inside.
(what i was)
Screams of soothing background lies,
too lazy to erase what i don't want you to see.
Stale blood drops as photographs
turn from crimson to brown like dying rose petals
And when they said it was a cry for help, they were right.
(Help me find something sharper)
Loved the memories and photographic drops,
back to the days of mirrors and lipstick red tears,
just watching the rubies fall from my coloring book.
(Not an ordinary storybook)
At least I got to have my prince.
(to kiss away my lipstick lies)