beauty lies in the eye of the beholder
they repeat to her,
but she has no care to listen
she knows how she appears.

her soul is filled with sorrow
she empties every night
through a blade named hate.

as the despair bleeds out
she feels enough relief
to fall asleep tonight
without medication.

after another dreamless sleep
she wakes hollow
ready to be replenished
by the creature.

the only means of escape
are by the ecstasy
of the razor on her wrist.

loveless she lives the days,
nights saturated in scars
something lost that wont be found.