My living dead girl

She is pain, she is cruel, she is suffering, she is my creation.
She was kind, she was loving, she was perfect, and now she is dead.
Brought back and pieced together she is whole but never complete
for it was I that killed her and so that burden weighs heavy on me.
Now like a mad man I look for answers to a puzzle with missing pieces.
She is unaware of her death, mislead to believe she is as she should be
unbound with undying confidence her ego rots her away from the inside.
Still I drown in every moment spent with her as if living a lie one second at a time, ignoring the putrid smell of deceit.
She has misplaced her heart and left no room for me in the empty cavity it is now, I am but a memory, a good time.
I still hold on to the idea of meeting in another life yet in this one I refuse to let her die. maybe it is time to put the dead to rest, my living dead girl.