Before I was young I was old.
Before I was old I was beautiful, just like you.
Red and blue
remind me of the love you slew.
Blue and red
mark the bloodshed
in the darkness where i bled,
in the stillness where you left me for dead.
I sought redemption
through the attention
you paid to my clumsy conversation,
whilst secretly praying for my devestation.
You unearthed my soul,
then proceeded to swallow it whole.
I could breath in your sin,
but I'd fail to exhale
through that grin
you would have me wear
till my face would tear
in two, one half red,
the other blue.
Red and blue is the glue
that kept me stuck to you.
Red is the pain
that will sustain
the fortress that is your ego
Blue is the mood
that i borrow
so as not to intrude
on the sorrow,
no smiles tomorrow.