A little flower on the window sill Buds closed tight as a clam Though she says “This Is who I am” Can’t you tell us? Don’t you want to cry? When you see Them die? Although you were meant to kill… As the flower does grow Her petals white as bliss Though she, Herself, doesn’t say this Won’t you tell us? You feel a tiny drip Fall down from your lip Although only you should know… The flower’s come so far A substance much like blood Across her petals it does flood Please, do tell us. You change your color from white like this To the color of a Blood Red Kiss Although you are behind the bar… The flower’s radiance Shines only Some She’s become this way And She’s sure there’s nothing to say Why not tell us? The brush slowly paints you Red Though that’s not what you Said Although it’s you who’s become… … I’ve become a flower with Dark Vanity My petals a midnight red shade The thought in my mind I Guess I forbade “You could have just Told us” Through my Blood Red Lips I draw a Dark breath And to my own feelings, “I put to... Death!” This time… It’s Me who’s gained Insanity
