White ribbons on my wrists stained red (I’m dying (.you)) && my pretty little lacey dress is all a mess with gore
(my heart pouring out through my hands(my eyes ripped out so I don’t have to look at you looking at me-disgust drawn on your face with permanent marker(I’ll never change your opinion now))) && I’m just one big tragedy aren’t I darling? Never enough, never enough to draw you near me(except when we exchange harsh remarks that I love because at least I have your attention(forthemoment)) close enough to touch me(caress my childlike form(an unopened flower) with your rough hands, hurt me if you have to just HOLD ME) so I can feel something(your flesh on mine) again. The only other things I can
perceive are pain and the r/a/z/o/r/ on my flesh (cutting away all the reasons I’m so (perfectly) ugly) && you know, if you could only see me .s.c.r.e.a.m. (face cleared as feeling rushes through my still form, mouth
open to release my JOY(at being aware of myself again(I am alive!)))
you might think I was beautiful.