I.
and we're all just corpses, ripe with decay
vacant, yet filled to the brim with
glimmering dreams of chaos
&& immortality

II.
see that poor girl? the one tearing at her
flesh with jagged, metallic kisses -- that's the only love
she's ever known (other than the one that left her
broken, black, and blue). oh, darling, don't you know
her veins bleed venom, just for you?

III.
daytime drug-induced dazes, heavy with leaden
euphoria. her skin crawls with sensation -- burning, bursting,
beautiful. they say she's throwing her life away, but maybe
she finally realized that the devil was right: to feel
is to live, and to live is to suffer.

So suffer well, he said.

IV.
and she did, because she longed to feel alive. painfully,
magnificently alive, and lost within the blurry water-colors of
the suffocating world around her. she would push herself to the
very brink of insanity, if that was what it would take to become
(sur)real

V.
Death could not
save her now

VI.
innocent eyes wonder why that girl wore a necklace made of rope
the night that she s l o w l y slipped away. tainted eyes
wonder when it was that suicide became the ultimate display
of everything they wish they could have been.

[fools.
she wasn't trying to kill herself;
didn't they know? she was already
dead --

VII.
when she is reborn with the same pretty face, at the same
empty and useless place, you'll know that it was meant to be
(a tragedy)