White Hot Razor Blade

Diamond rain falls from her eyes in sharp little pieces,
That burst and break upon the wood floors,
That echo the quick "click-click" of her patent leather heels,
Reminding the ghosts that they are never alone,
And herself that she always is,

Trickling down it splashes upon her fingertips of white,
Ivory flesh that masques her brittle bones so well,
Confusing the world into some hallucination of her beauty,
A lie of make-believe that she is more lovely than the rest,
The worst lie of all,

Her ebony hair falls down her back limply,
Shining from a health that somehow forgot to bleed itself,
Deep into the dark recesses of her brain,
Where the infection of madness took up residence and broke her,
Drove the sanity from her eyes and lips and hair and lungs,

The tears continue to fall and days to pass,
Until finally her tears are falling into a hot bath filled with a million more,
Where her ivory skin is burned red,
From the steaming tears and water,
And the razor blade that split the veins below,