She buries her face in her hands, stuck too fast
Jammed in her passion, she fashions her last
breath from the diamonds that grace her fingertips
Gently, gently, they fall as the blood drips
Slowly like a rhythmic drum beating, repeating
Heartbeats as her only assurance of being alive
Wide eyes tried to slide up where people could truly see
But her sunglasses are steel doors, and visible is something she’ll never be