Always the one to offer the olive branch,

When I want to fight till I’m dead.

Always the one who’s silenced,

By now, I already know how this will end.

Always the innocent dove,

With darkness lurking below.

Always perfect and fine,

No. Nobody truly knows.

Pure and white,

Yet splattered with blood.

Quiet and sweet,

And oh-so misunderstood.

So call me a dove,

And ignore my darkening heart,

Yes, call me a dove,

And ignore how I’m falling apart.