Shiny and bright,
it glitters like stars as the light catches it.
She smiles, a friend just found,
head tilted,
tongue extending to lick her lips in anticipation.
Her brow furrows as she reads the maker’s name:
Sheffield Steel.
“Thank you, Sheffield,” she murmurs,
as if thanking old companions,
the Steelers.
Showered, all parts bare,
scrubbed clean and raw.
Sheffield rests on the bathroom floor
as the bathwater runs,
hot and scalding under her testing hand.
Her hair brushes her face as she bends to feel the heat.
Music drones—love lost, innocence spat out.
She hesitates,
debating whether it should play or not.
Best left on.
Toes burn as they daintily slip into the steamy depths.
Makeup freshly applied,
black lines streak her eyes,
red lips a stark contrast against pale skin.
Tears, once fallen, stain her face—
beautiful in despair.
Sheffield is caressed and whispered to,
its cold heart closed to all entreaties.
Thin, keen,
in her mind, it glows—
her best hope.
She tenderly lays it across each arm,
its sharpness almost tickling the skin.
She smiles, a flutter of panic,
but no,
this is the right way,
the only way.
Today is the day.
Water overflows, spilling into the room below.
Her tears are washed away,
along with the black kohl pencil.
Fears gone.
Hopes gone.
Future now set in stone—
death with a smile.
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Wow, Abbie, I don’t know exactly what to say. This gave me shivers. It made me feel like I was watching something that I wasn’t supposed to see. I try to imagine what you have gone through to be able to write something like this, but then I’m afraid to know that you been through very hard times, too hard to imagine. I’m sorry for that and want you to know that you are much loved and appreciated. Remember that. (((Abbie))) Maggie
I appreciate that. Each story has a little of the truth in the dark category.