One, two, three, four, come and get me! You betcha, I will.
She stared at her greenish, blue veins jolting through her pale porcelain wrists- like ancient twisted tree roots; growing, growing from her fingertips down to her toes. Reaching towards the heavens and stretching down towards hell.
Or perhaps her veins were a lighting bolt electrifying her skin; striking her wrists, pulsing through her upper arms.
Five, six, seven, eight
She was one with the blood. Flowing through her bloodstreams, the universe inside of her.
nine, ten, eleven, twelve...
Shards of glass, like millions of angels coming to save her. She picked one up. Held it to her skin. She crawled into the bathtub. Watched the water turn red.