She crossed herself
And from her pillow
Drew a blade,
And watched it sparkle
As the light began to fade,
This was her sacrifice,
Her mind was made,
‘Don’t cry my child
The day has yet begun,’
Echoed in her mind,
And smiling at some private fun
She drew the blade along her palm,
This was the taste,
The first of many pains,
Again she drew the line
To keep the darkness from her mind
As she etched a cross of blood
Upon her outstretched hand,
Looking at pictures
Strewn across the bed,
Hoping to God himself
That he would bless her blade,
Smiling faces flashed
Before her troubled eyes,
Promises long broken
Cut deep into her dying heart,
This cross was her prayer
The blood her vow,
‘Today and for eternity,
Together we shall be,’
Taking her strength
From passed happiness
She cut her final mark,
Along smooth skin,
As yet unblemished from her pain,
Laying down the blade
Upon her fallen loves
She stared deep into their eyes
Making new promises
Even as her life drained away,
Painting a cross of blood upon her brow,
She turned frosting eyes
Toward her salvation,
And her destruction,
For love and hope
No more could here be found,
She felt herself grow cold
And from her lips
There fell her peace
‘Our father who art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name…,
Forgive us our trespasses
As we forgive those who trespass against us…’
No more could she see,
Her bloodied cross
Adorning her pale brow
Ran deep into her eyes
Silent tears began to fall,
Thick and red
Seeing red and feeling peace
She laughed at deaths small irony,
Alone, always alone,
She opened her arms
Embracing the angel of fate,
This was not death,
‘The day has yet begun,’

They came,
After the sun spat out
Its bloodied light,
They came,
To rage and shout,
They came,
To deaths silent reproach.