Last Comfort

She forces herself up every morning
And dawns her false smile to hide the pain.
She dresses up the scars
And wears her everyday costume.
She settles the beast thriving in her broken soul,
Trying to hold it's emancipated body,
She brushes over the reddened flesh
Of where the beast has begun devouring itself.
She covers up it's protruding bones
Darkened from years of rot and ignorance.

She leaves for the day,
Hugging to her heart her shattered mirror.
Its hopes and dreams now smoke,
Drifting away with every step she takes..
They laugh, each laugh a cut, a bruise, another scar,
Spilling her blood to the ravenous dirt.
Weakening her to the point
Of allowing the beast to tear into itself,
Giving her the temporary comfort
Of the lies she wants so desperately to believe.

She stumbles home, now more empty than before.
Just a shell of the falsities is left.
She devours the tablets that make her feel like a cloud.
Giving her just a moments comfort to go on.
The beast calms, but still gnaws at itself,
Now more a rotting skeleton than a fierce being.
The ones she once loved, cut her with even sharper words.
No tears come, for they to have fled this shell.
The beast continues to gnaw at the blackened bones,
In hopes to fill the stomach that is no longer there.

With one fatal blow, they crush what was left of her,
Shattering the frame into dust and fragment.
She tries desperately to grab the pieces
Trying in vain to pull the fragments together into a form.
A cold wind, carrying a lulling voice,
Sweeps the dust away into the abyss.
It pulls and tugs at her and she finally lets it pull her down.
It cradles her and pulls a veil over her eyes.
She watches as the last problems run red.
And is swallowed away by her last and final comfort;
Death