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My parents cry over my body, I watch them.
What can I do? I can’t just, Reach out and touch them.
I’m the one in the red and black coffin. Roses lay,
All around the inside and out.
I stare at my cold dead body, He slit my throat and sliced my body,
I can’t look. If I look I don’t,
Think I’ll be able to look away. I don’t want to be stuck,
Looking at my body like that. But I have to. I look.
My dark brown hair with bright,
White streaks are curled up to my shoulders.
My soft, pink lips are puckered in their natural ways.
My eyes outlined in purple are shut, peaceful.
I straight black dress, falls in ruffles down my legs,
To my feet that have flats on. My parents know me well.
I look at peace. Despite the slashes all down my body,
Arms, face, legs.
I laugh. I’m silent though. I’m dead. I can’t laugh.
I can’t make a single sound to say goodbye.
And on my left, soft, rosy cheek,
Is my very own scar. Mine. My brother suddenly looks
Straight at me. Right at me. How can he see me? Nobody else can.
I smile and start to say something through my sewn lips.
Yes, sewn. It was a painful process through the murder.
It was his sign of saying, silence. They cut off the strings,
When they dressed me up for this. Outlining my lips are small,
Dots where the needle inserted thread.
Hear my parents cry and my brother stares.
What am I ever supposed to do, With this? What do I say?
Well… not say. I can’t say a thing. A sign though.
I think quick. I put my hands up, To my heart. Making a heart. Then I,
Point to him. Then mom. Then dad. He nods, understanding. Then I see,
Something glistening going down his cheek.
A tear. He’s never cried before. Neither have I. I want to now, but I can’t.
My mom lets out a sob, and I slip. I start to fall in the black abyss that,
I didn’t realize lied under me. I stared at my brother with pleading eyes,
Trying to show him my silent goodbye. I waved to him,
Then to mom, then to dad. And I looked at him, my eyes saying,
Say goodbye to them for me.
He nodded. I put my hands up to my heart one last time,
Saying I loved him. Then I pointed to mom, then dad, one last time.
He nodded, another tear strolled down his cheek,
And surprisingly one went down mine too.
I waved a silent goodbye to him, falling into the abyss.
Lower, lower, lower. The only thing I can think of is getting,
My killer turned in. How I hope he suffers.