Some how peeking into her own soul she ran her fingers across the jagged edges of her hair.
Reminding her of a much younger version of herself. Witty,poised, yet still sharper than a vipors fang piercing her own flesh.
.Ah yes a much prettier me she shouted out with a bitter tounge which lashed out at her for even having a thought of what once was not allowing it to cleanse the wounds.
Tears of blood ran down her pale face when she realized she was dead looking back at herself through the jagged edges of her heart.
This is a dark work that I hold dear because it describes the inner feelings of so many suffering depression and other mental illnesses.