The Active And Lying Blue Pants

Whose blue pants is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite angry though.
She was cross like a dark potato.
I watch her pace. I cry hello.

She gives her blue pants a shake,
And screams I've made a bad mistake.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.

The blue pants is active, lying and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
Tormented with nightmares she never sleeps.
Revenge is a promise a girl should keep.

She rises from her cursed bed,
With thoughts of violence in her head,
A flash of rage and she sees red.
Without a pause I turned and fled.