She lies on her neatly made bed.

The fibers clinging tight to the pores of her skin.

Tears caress her soft profile down to her cracked lips.

The taste of salt touches her ashy tongue.

She’s trying the avoid the whispers in her head.

Silent screams yelling her original sin,

Where blood is drawn from between her hips

And nicotine breeds the anxiety in her lungs.

The moonlight casted a shadow of dread.

Her sweet melody goes unsung.