Immortal Tears: Confusing? Again, I wouldn't know because I understand my reasons for writing it. I apologize if its meaning doesn't make itself clear.

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Painted lips,
Blood red.

Painted wrists,
Bleed red.

You, the whore,
Me, the prude.
Ironic, don't you think?

You claim to cut those
Pretty little wrists of yours.

Irony is bittersweet.

I have cut my wrists,
Taken those pills
That promised me happiness.

You name it, love,
I've done it.

You can't do anything right, huh?
I suppose I pity the whore
That has no control over that
Dirty mess between her legs.