Her tears frigid form brisk

winters

Icicles are what she envisages

Befuddled, he left her

For women of multiple beauty

And luzury - she aspires to be

Alluring; a siren worthy of indulging

The carnal desires men fancy.

Stare into the brute lamp

having

Suffered endeavored bruises

Contemplated to blend impeccably

She dismayed herself a long life

Her fragile and gaunt vesel.

Her eyes, not

eyes - instead

platitudinous, foggy mirrors that lack sentiments.

Her pillows became her

therapist;

The only object inclined to encounter

The wailing mess she was.

Her long-sleeves became the blanket

That serenades and lends comfort during

Situations of emotional anguish.

Her index finger be the constant

modus operandi of concealing all cataclysms.

Blue pills became her only solution to functioning.

Like normal teenage girls do - only normal girls

"Long live beautiful," she said;

Refuted of living a routine life

Of a teenager- she bled, she starved, she

bawled, she slumbered in her grave.