his hands were like blades,
slicing through my life,
I didn't manage to evade his grenades,
all he has to do is twist the knife.
Then I met someone new,
he soothed my burns,
I loved the vivid picture he drew,
each stroke we took turns.
little did I know,
peroxide soaked was his love,
cleaning every wound I'd show,
and he fits like a glove.
the day he went away,
I knew I needed him,
he left my heart astray,
he gave the meaning of life a gentle trim.
little did I know,
his love was peroxide.
and he gave love a knew perspective.
