Red is the mark that stays on my skin,
The heavy reminder of where I have been.
White is the silence that follows the fight,
The ghost of the words I buried last night.
The dirt under my nails tastes like regret,
The only garden I cannot forget.
Tear off the petals, watch them rot in the mud,
There is no romance, just the iron and blood.
Yellow is a coward’s way to say goodbye,
Pink is the plastic truth behind a lie.
I am done with the colors, done with the game,
Just another wildfire looking for a name.
Orange is the anger that burns through the floor,
Lavender is the numbness I am begging for.
You wanted a garden, you wanted a bloom,
But you just planted hatred inside of this room.
The roots are tangled, the stems are all snapped,
In this cycle of roses, we are permanently trapped.
The sunlight is fading, the colors turn black,
I am walking the path and not looking back.
The garden is hollow, the harvest is dead,
Just voices of ghosts ringing inside my head.
I’m cutting the vines, I’m breaking the chain,
Washing the memory out in the rain.
Tear off the petals, watch them rot in the mud,
There is no romance, just the iron and blood.
Yellow is a coward’s way to say goodbye,
Pink is the plastic truth behind a lie.
I am done with the colors, done with the game,
Just another wildfire looking for a name