We try so hard to find
The next line
When ideas seem to fade
And thoughts are "miscalculated",
Where do we go?
The quietude is suffocating
Ominous smiles seem so inviting
Crimson is the only shade she'll wear
And he says it's becoming
But where do we go from here?
She paints her lips a darker red
His spiteful words go unsaid
He holds her a little closer
He cuts
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