Looking back,
Everything felt magical, not real
The hysteria in me wasn’t to be fooled.
The bruised me wasn’t to be loved.
The imperfect me wasn’t to be loved.

Came and made love look easier,
Took me through the walls of your heart.
Went through every fibre.
But I couldn’t handle the softness of it,
I came down hurtling around it,
And made it look rougher.

Intoxicated you with my bloody, wounded and bruised breath.
Broke you and became adverse to you.
Invaded the crown-like premises of your heart,
Demolishing and retaliating.

Still, you took the broken vase me
And put freshly picked roses into.
Soothed both me and you
With your soft words.
Looked deep into my eyes
‘Cause you knew I was disguised with pain.
Yet you still found the girl of your dreams.