brush the ashes from this grave. sky calls the name. carving the words into her skin, like initials to a tree. a chokehold of failure. knife angle blade. the slashes in the forgotten image. the makeup has washed away from her stare, fixed upon the cross that she bares. god would never shed a tear. here she lays, defending the incisions. madness, or just open eyes? hear the harmony in her scream, in a world rotted so hollow. glance away, and she's left in pieces. discord in hands, to cradle and serenade. her pulse dances to the beat of a dial tone. her heart unplugged, not withstanding sorrow. so rest on the glass that left her bleeding. black roses for her suicide arrangement.