Four of Her

Skinning away layers,
She doesn't fight, she doesn't cry.
Her silent meditation is her only escape,
While others tear and reap away her poisoned layers.

These layers of stories,
Layers of lies, layers of pain.
No one knows the truth about them,
They only guess and wonder what, if any truth is there.

The girl knows,
Indeed she knows all too well.
Every layer has a different life,
A different personality, a different poison.

A layer for each pain,
Each lie, each twisted moment in her dead world.
1, 2, 3, 4,
They're skinning away layers, only to find a strangled heart and a note.

The heart quickly turned to dust,
Disappearing into the wind, dancing with the hidden demons.
The note was all that was left,
Saying nothing but four names, four lies, and four poisons.