The Coldness

The coldness set into her bones

as the dark took her.

Her mouth stitched shut

The last piece of string

stuck out between her two pale lips.

They said nothing as they snipped it.

They covered the rest of her with a white sheet,

a sheet that contoured her lifeless body.

Every curve and niche was shadowed.

Giving a glimpse of what she was like

when she was alive.

Her face gave away everything.

When she was sad, she cried.

Her tears spilled and created a river.

When she was happy

Her laugh was uncontrollable.

Her eyes were always wet

and her tears created a brook.

No one had to guess

at what she was thinking.

She was innocent,

her lies were imperfect

and not successful.

The luster of her brown hair was gone.

The cold lights that shone down on her

didn’t reveal the amber highlights that once

would have shone almost so brightly it would’ve blinded

anyone.

Her dimples, that were now just two more niches,

were her way into and out of

trouble.

In the time when she needed them most,

they failed.

They allowed the gun to unload into her

Her piercing green eyes were her best feature.

Now they would forever be shut.

Her pale pink eyelids allowed no intruders into her soul

Or

into the mystery of her death.

The coldness evaporated

as she looked down upon her old shell

and witnessed the strange
rituals of preparing for life after death