The Ballet

The blade pirouetted across her porcelain skin

And etched lines as it twirled on its way.

Till dancing across a vein within

Caused crimson waves to crush the ballet.


Caught up in her own contradiction

Inflicting pain in desperate hope of relief.

Developing alleviating addictions

Faux highs followed by tangible grief.


Empty bottles lay scattered besides her,

A concoction for certain death.

Yet somehow she still smiled

As she dragged in a ragged breath.


Like a fish on land, or perhaps a bird in sea

]She finally escaped this place she wasn’t meant to be.


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