She was perfect, but in a different kind of way.

She wanted love but couldn't bear the idea of people seeing her.

She

     was

          beautiful,

but invisible at the same time.

With no one to love her,

no one to care for her,

she

    felt

        lost,

uncertain from where to go.

And with those words in mind,

she took

      her own

           life.

Knowing that no one would see the beauty

that resided not only inside,

but in her soul as well.

No one would acknowledge her presence.

All she wanted

       was to have someone

            love her.

No one would.

So with each cut deeper than the last,

she bled

      pure

         radiance.

Beauty leaked from her imperfect body.

Not imperfect,

     but incomplete.

          Unloved.

With each cut, the beauty covered her,

engulfed her in a sheen that radiated like hot metal.

She was the most beautiful being.

With no one to witness her last breath,

               she died.

The life within ceased to exist.

And with that,

her wish was complete.

She

    became

       beautiful.

Born from an ugly past,

she now was the most loved person.

With the beauty inside of her now out,

people

    recognized

        her,

but it was too late.

For she had already died.

A poor waste for such a pretty girl.

Her funeral was gorgeous, as gorgeous as a funeral can be.

People mourned her death,

but

    not

        her.

For they did not receive the chance

to come face to face with her living form.

They only saw her for what she only wanted to be.

For beauty not only on the outside, but on the inside as well.

Not a single person realized this. That is why she took her own life.

Her sacrifice has let others just like her have a chance at survival.

A turn

   of events.

A change

    of heart.