Smoke poured from her mouth
Who's to say it would **** her
They all told her that her body would collapse
But her liver was still in place
And all the drinking bottles had been smashed
When they continuously landed to point
At him
Perhaps it would have worked better
If a few others had decided to join their game

Death was poised between her finger tips
Funny how that action sounds like poison
Maybe that is why she let them meet
Her nails weren't yellow
Her art teacher had always warned her
Of the color it would make when mixed
With black
So she'd add it with purple to darken
The mixture she felt the need to create

Tar dripped from her lips
No one ever warned her that ink
Wouldn't be the thing to calm her down
English majors liked to look
At her through wire rimmed glass
And see that with every drop
Paper shrived
But she couldn't flatten any of it out
So she'd let it fall onto the edges
Which were always smooth
But what else was sharp enough
To **** her

Flames rose in her pupils
She always wondered what they saw
When her eyes lit up at the
Sight of a "yet to be soothed"
Fire
Mirrors didn't hold enough reflection
For her to see all the ways
The blue and orange turned to white
When it hit her green iris
But not the other
No one is perfect enough to be that dead