She marks herself, slowly and deeply watching skin rise feeling a pain simmer in like fire. She does it to conceive a new pain. Another affliction to conceal the one closed behind the doors of a wide smile and diamond eyes. The one she carries pressing on her bony shoulders and shaking knees; the one that sometimes bleeds through her vibrant, flavoured clothing exposing her raw and vulnerable to the whip of society. She is a mural of beautiful, broken glass. When the light has departed from her the smile is clawed off and her diamonds eyes like winter coal. And when the pain returns, she marks herself, slowly and deeply watching skin rise feeling a pain simmer in like fire. This is the reality and tomorrow never dies.