Bitterness is a dress I don't wear too well
With the delicate lace in my face
And the velvet black
And porcelain skin may be so flawless and fair
But it's also breakable
Submissiveness is a dress
Every mirror knows the sight
It's so becoming of a well-bread woman
To be gracefully gliding down the halls
In satin white
I found myself a needle and thread
I pricked my finger and it bled
Unsteady hands rending gowns to tattered shreds
Fashioned me a dress
Of crimson red