Smeared lipstick on the glass
and paint splattered on the floor
midnight screaming seems routine
but she loves him more and more

The pain and bruises on her smile
the blood struck after the laughter
she's a slave for some in matters
and which she follows
but the minute of death is right below her

The tears she feels
the blueness of her red smirk
and the shyness in her eyes
I guess nobody will ever know
how she got used to it all
 
Copyright © ghosttree, All Rights Reserved