Bloody Lace

She stares into the mirror,
Tears streaming down her face.
Blood drips down from her wrists,
Onto white and tattered lace.

Eyes all big and puffy,
The blade is red and sharp.
Her wrist is dark and pounding,
A knife right through her heart.

She's standing there and thinking,
If I was pretty he'd love me.
He's just a shallow @$$hole,
I'm as ugly as could be.

It's obvious he'd choose her,
She's plastic head to toe.
First I'll wipe away my tears,
Then off to Hell I'll go.

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