She spreads the veil of black deceit
Two lives lie intricately tangled
An identity into which she heads to retreat
Her other body bloody and mangled
A razor, a gun, and tools of pain
The blood drips down on the buisness suit
From this game, she has nothing to gain
The screams of treachery she cannot mute
She runs from the problem that she herself bred
She makes her life a filthy waste
The dark but living cancer that she nurtured and fed
For the other side, she wants a taste
Not wanting to be here anymore
Her body is the case for a mortal ghost
A bathtub of red is what she lives for
Her lifeless hand raises a toast
An ode to the life she didn't want to lead
A memorial to the service of a soul separation
A reminder of the future from which she was freed
A tribute to the quietness of her desperation
Rolling Stone covers ripped and pasted on the plaster
Lives that she envies displayed with a twist
Cigarettes tattoos just to make her fall faster
The temptation to create more scars on her wrist
Portraits of beauty hung to remember
The bodybag is zipped and the blood is dry
The girl who killed herself last December
The note becomes a memoir to forget her by