As the police entered the room the smell of death infected the air enough to make even such a simple task of breathing seem as easy as surviving a plane crash

And there on the floor highlighted in red lied a girl
Her possession of immortal beauty brought the sincerest form of irony to this seemingly tragic display of lust versus love
Her hair was jet black and eyeliner smeared across her cheeks like the wax of an expiring candle

It was black on black on black
It was such a shame that she could not resist keeping the only hint of red strictly to her fingernails

There were necklaces and bracelets
There were liquids and lipstick
She wrote a note to herself, and afterwards she de-wristed

Let's go!

"So fucking beautiful your porcelain fucking face
And when you see me looking at you from the other side
You fucking shatter and your glass heart misses beats
No one can know about us

Just know I'd kill you if I ever got the fucking chance
Grab on your neck real tight and snap it with my fucking hands
And so I did this so that you can come to finally see
How much I cared and how my love is never-ending."