Should they
Use a knife
And cut out your ego
Penetrate the cold eyes
And paint a pretty pink

Gashes of red will adorn your hands
Markings of trees and labrynthian words

Tattoo an oath of truth on to your temple
For the mirrors and eyes that graze you shamelessly

Amputation ...the quasi weightlessness
Tool of a foolish cleanser
The pear of anguish
And yes the world heard then
Your screams ...so musical that  she danced on top of your unmarked grave