// The roses are wilted, / The violets are dead. / Please help me fight the voices, / That live in my head. / We're all just regular teenagers, / who have perfected secrecy. / We can tell you everything about self-destruction, / And tragedy. / At such a young age, can we teach you how to wipe up the blood, / and come up with a million excuses, / Not to eat. / We can teach you how to stop tears from being a flood, / and how to lie and say, "It was the cat down the street." / You'll learn quickly, / how to fake a smile. / You'll learn quickly, / To just wait a while. / We can tell you how to dress up open wounds, / and make the blood stop. / We can tell which foods, / Are easiest to throw up. / We've perfected a way, / To build up the walls. / So they're too high for hurt to fall in. / But we forgot it was also to high for love. / We can teach you all the above, / without stuttering. / We can teach you it all, / We're not muttering. / Because we, / fell into the trap of "Perfection". //
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A/N Sorry it has been a while. Hope you guys like this one!
