Twice I turned my back on you. Two times I was so blue I had to kiss the red from others lips just to understand that those two colours made the same purple of the bruises I was covered in. Twice I was a reminder that the thorns of rose petals hide in unlikely places, that they will bite your skin drawing poison to the surface making your words black. Two times I drowned you in sweet lies, had you convinced that if the surface reflected it was pure. You saw yourself and I know you’re no saint so twice I was the alarm, going off a little too late.