Parched throat
Dry lips
Skin stretched
Over bony hips
Prominent collarbones
Sunken in eyes
Irises the color
Of Pennsylvania skies
Atop her shoulders
Rests her head
She's very much alive
But looks so dead
Her breath escapes
In shallow pants
Her slender fingers
Comparable to spiders
Crawl over her hair
Of black, silky webs
Effortlessly perfect
Yet endlessly hurting
You'll always be worth it
So don't you worry
Beauty truly is
A burden of it's own
Beauty can't survive
Being alone  
The unlovely
Make beauty
Beautiful