The Beautiful Dead
The girl who cared, woke up and screamed.
After her morning routine, beauty is redeemed.
Her line, to be young and beautiful.
Her life beams murky water, without a moment dull.
Her head filled with lies.
With her fake beauty she tries.
Without a though her heart shrivels and dies.
In her no secret untold lies.
To her all things have died.
Guilty pleasures exquisitely everyday ritualized.
Her head is hung, her shoulders sunken.
Her thought always drinking.
Her mind drips with cold blooded hatred.
Her mind spawned maggots, that which bred.
Hear heart colors now, solid as if lead.
Her beauty is shallow, and from this she is dead.
A dark secret fed her dead bodies head...
The dread of accepting, she was already beautiful...
Copyright ©
Me Me | Year Posted 2014
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