The Devil Bought Me Flowers


April 2006.
From the soul of my 16 year-old self,
But edited for literary purposes.

More from the Sweet & Sour Sixteen Series:

Honey, you've got not no idea.
Oh you, allergic to light, careful not to scratch.
Oh you, speed up, up, yet you blame the car,
When you crash.

In rage, you burn.
In pain, you drawn.
You want to set the world on fire.
As you choke with your own blood.
You can fix yourself,
But you're too focused,
On burning everyone else.

Honey, all you do is whine.
Oh you, need the "poor you, you're right."
Oh you, see me up, up, you spit at the stars,
Your heart is dark, yet you blame the night.

In love, I bloom.
In peace, I swim.
You want to jump and fly,
As you compare your wings to mines.
You can fix yourself,
But you're too focused,
On waiting to see me fall.

But up, up, I go, honey.
I can't stop, I won't.
Up, up, I belong, honey.
I won't stop, don't try to catch up.

You throw the devil at me,
But the devil and I,
we got drunk last night.

Honey, you've got not no idea.
The devil bought me flowers last night.


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