Look at you.
So forced, so empty.
Look at you.
You keep snarling, "Why you? Why didn't he love me?"
Look at you.
Viciously pulling at marionette strings
That were cut so long ago with so many other things.
Look at you.
Stabbing picture frames.
Look at you.
Cursing my bloody name.
Look at me.
Eyes burning black as tar.
Look at me.
More deadly and more beautiful than a dying star.
Look at me.
Writing word after word, as though words could change anything.
As though I could ever change anything.
Look at me.
Covered in blood, covered in ash.
Look at me.
And you thought you could hurt me with some broken glass.