I took a long walk along the river, and spilled my spirit. Like thick crimson, sunrise scarlet, I rose before you. I plunged my satin self into a pool of doubt
One way out.
One pill too many, and I am sick, sick at the soul.
Bruises decorate this pale blanket that keeps me to myself. I call it skin. It's drained of colour so they can see right through. This disguise won't work much longer.
This is when I start to scream.
Dirty little pretty things that beautify this suffering. Electricity running through my brain. Jumping, this way, that. Until I cannot speak but mumble childish nonsense to myself.
O, night. That covers me and lets me understand this light. I am a vase, beautifully shaped and unused, dirty lying on the bed. Palms upturned to welcome any daft magickal thing into my soul.
I'm flaking off, six-sided loveliness that ends when it touches ground. The sweet sanity of this earth. It ruins me.
(we'll shock her out of this foolish wretchedness)
I'm perfect and promising. A uncorrupted girl lying dry and lifeless on the ground.
I glow with you, the unmistakable stench of wasted love.