Yesterdays funeral todays death

She sits there in front of the mirror
Looking at the beauty he talked about
Her feeling ever so ugly inside herself
Gazing at the razor in her hand
Wondering how to escape herself

She takes one slice of flesh from her cheek
She realizes that it is just a hollow space
She continues to proceed below her eyes
To only see recessed eyes
Cutting off her lips for no more words she can never tell him
Next her forehead exposing her skull
Which protected her mind

Blood gushing down her eyes,but...
No one tear that falls
Looking at her hand that she use to hold his
She continues with her self religion
Slicing the skin from her hands
Feeling no warmth that he brought to her
Yet she still sees no beauty in this madness

She continues with her legs that use to wrap around him
She feels no tightness nor oneness of him
Peeling her flesh from her legs
Only to see veins and mutilated meat
Breathing shallowing as the lost of blood
Flows from her numb artwork of discovery

Looking at her chest inwhich she held his love
Can she see her enter beauty that he could not see?
Digging the razor deep into her chest cavity
Only to find pure emptiness; did he take her heart?

Looking into the mirror and seeing what she has done
She; to only realize that she will die without him
She lies there now on the floor
With her hand where her heart should be
Only to wonder where did her beauty go
She has strip her outside to only discover a morbid human being
She had found no heart that kept her alive

A closed casket she has received
As she looks down from the rebellion in heaven
She can still see no beauty on the outside of her tomb

He kneels beside her and speaks of his devine love
She could have died in his arms as he thinks
She chose solace within herself
Did not give him the right to see her become alive
Why would he love her in death?
For he killed her in life

He had to see why a closed casket
He opens...
A mangled body of nothing he sees
He never could see her inter beauty
This was not the woman he loved
Some joke of a madmans art
Never to realize that it was his art that she carved

"If we were all judge by our looks;
Thier would be alot of ugly single people out there!"