What a mess!
She looks down at the blood on her hands.
What has she done?
Why did she do it?
Long black hair soaked in crimson liquid.
The most beautiful blue eyes she’s ever seen
stares unseeing at the ceeling.
The expression in them is not blaiming.
Only sad.
Only hopeless.
Only Dead.
Her face - as usual - shows no emotion.
Only her eyes are still alive,
are still burning.
Inside she’s cold.
Inside she is dead too.
As dead as the corpse
in front of her on the floor.
She walks over to the window,
lifting her shivering hands
to grab the iron bars.
The blood is not yet dry
and it slowly trickles down her arms.
She can’t bear to look at the Dead body.
Strong arms reach out
to softly embrace her from behind.
She is a prisoner
but she is not alone.
She has inprisoned them too;
the Dead
and the Living.
The Living holds her close abd nuzzles her neck.
The Dead looks at her with a glazed stare.
She is still not sure why she kiled him.
She didn’t want to.
She didn’t have to
But she did.
A murderer.
She’s a murderer.
It’s like a disease.
She has to kill.
An instinct from deep within?
A sheer coincident?
A result of her society?
She doesn’t know.
No one knows.
The Living pulls her closer still.
He takes her head in his hands
and turns her face away from the Dead.
But when she closes her eyes
his gaze meets her.
His sad blue puppy eyes.
The eyes in which she once drowned.
She is not really alive either.
Her scars are flashing scarlet.
Here eyes are burning stone.
Her body she has given to the Living.
Her soul is lost in the Void.
