Cold blood drips from tender fingertips
Upon the naked white of porcelain
Where it pools to become the dark mirror
Reflecting your once beautiful eyes
Eyes that once sparkled at the promise of wonders
Stare now pale at the cheap blue curtain that hides you
Water drips from the faucet into this human soup
Condensation forms on your once troubled brow
Your warm pink lips are now hard and blue
Your skin is cold, never to know anothers touch
The cold this steel that loved your flesh
Lies discarded at your side, forgotten
Within this frozen wold lies a promise
You will not be troubled by how they hurt you and lied
Because you have cast off this veil of the living
This my sweet love, is how you died.
By,
ShannonA. Rhoten
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