death comes wearing a ball gown and she’s fucking beautiful

eyelids completely shut, I resented the fact that I'd never see that shade of brown ever again. veins traced under her skin like a map, every memory ever plotted out, buried in her chest. the natural flush of her cheeks had already washed away, leaving behind a pallid color. her entire face was hollow, an empty shell of her former self.

I clutched onto her ice-cold hand all night, my tears warmer than her skin.

she was dead.

I don't know what else I expected.