The Black Rose

I wasn't only fighting myself
I was fighting him.

We where lovers, but I fell in love
Black roses in the garden in the hills
He said the beautiful darkness reminded him of me.
I had demons
Made it hard to control all evil
It killed me that he was doing better then me
My weakness
lost every beating.

He was everything I wasn't
He was nothing I wanted
But he was everything I needed

I was in love with him.
I was in love with an american man.

I never slept good next to him
It was my grave
buried alive in pain
He became my fever
I was fighting his infection

As art was my addiction,
He became my ART.

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