The Girl With My Face

She lies in her bed  
crispy, minty  
innocence  
tastes like cinnamon 
in my mouth.  
   
Her eyes once like ruby's  
now destroyed thanks  
to needless brutality.  
   
Her face is all but destroyed  
split open like a cloth bag  
bandages cannot hide    
the damage caused  
   
Though i have never met her  
i love her  
and she loves me  
I am Jesus Christ her savior  
and she is about to be set free.  
   
I cut i graft  
i plan, i craft  
Every incision  
painstaking  
molding what left of her face  
folding tabs of bone and flesh  
into every inch and space.  
   
She awakes  
i get off on the anticipation,  
she gazes in the mirror  
to see her refection  
she is greeted with    
a face not her own  
but my own.  
   
It is perfection  
She screams  
she is a thing of beauty  
i have created her in my image  
but they are tears of joy  
...Right?