You pluck at my heart strings, Lily...
I've wasted daisies to find out if she loves me.
Attitude turned lackadaisical.
I know the truth about you now.
You're poison. I've cut the ivy you've spun around my eyes.
You were my rose. Does that make me the prick?
My goddess Venus-
flytrap. Men swarm. We're just snacks to you.
You chewed me up and spit me back out.
I guess I'm not a catch to you.
I'll miss the little things; the scent of you.
But you made your bed, now lay in it.
You're dead to me, Lily.
My deadly nightshade.