Roses are prickly but violets never make me woe;
High heels make me happy, especially a pair of Ferragamo's;
He bought me a pair of violet platforms, making me stand at 6'2;
He discovered my weakness, which is a stylish pair of shoes;
I know that he will continue to hurt me, our relationship is toxic;
I begin to rage with fury like a participant in a mosh pit;
Your sex is subpar but you continue to cheat;
It makes me feel like I'm the problem, making me feel a sense of defeat.
I told you I'm leaving for the fifth time this year;
The thought of you makes me cringe but losing you is my biggest fear.
You're a soulless individual, maniacal in a way;
But you will never change because you know I will always stay.
Shoes are like flowers: They soon wilt and die;
As women, we still accept them because they make us temporarily fly;
You sabotage my lifestyle, you leave me feeling bleu;
I cry as I hold these violets because deep down I still love you.
You're my lover and enemy, sex partner and foe;
Roses are prickly but violets never make me woe.