A  beautiful  suicide  kit.

Life is something we all share, Just like oxygen, in the air. The way we live it, is up to us, With a negative or with a plus.

Life is something, we should cherish, We never know, when we'll perish. Live each and every single day, Smell the flowers, stop and play.

Life is something, we've been blessed, Choice is yours, choose your quest. Follow your passions, and you'll be fine, With the right attitude, you will shine.

Green dances like waves around her wide pupils, eyes lashes like curved feathers graze the top of her eyelid.

Flaming orange spirals from her beautiful mind down to the end of her back.

A canvas
Her face resembled as the flecks of freckles formed a gorgeous piece art.

Her body was as though it was sculptured carefully to put on display in greek goddess section of the museum

Sadly it wasn't
Instead her body was forcefully abused and harmed as it wasn't societys shallow idea of beauty

She wasn't tan
She wasn't blonde or brunette
Just a pale ginger.

She considered herself to be hideous

She became weak
Vunerable
Easy

It wasn't her fault
She needed the money
She lacked self esteem
And so selling her body gave her the worth and attention she never had.

Beaten
Hurt
*****

Her life was gone
The green waves in her eyes stop dancing
The lashes were now harsh lumps of dried mascara
Her beautiful hair was bleached blonde, frayed and cut.

And her body was now just another puppet to an old mans torture.

There was a cake
But no one ate it
Then there was no cake
And still no one had eaten it
But everyone remembered it
It didn't look that nice
It looked like it needed more chocolate
It looked like it needed less sugar
It tasted like...
Who said that?
No one answered
They looked at each other
with dark chocolately glances
No one ate the cake
It just vanished.
But not without comment.