All full of shiny steel
Two men in dance
Of blood and stitches
Care and cremation
Dead Cosmetics
And in the corner
Wide eyes
Doll in hand
There she sat
The Morticians Daughter
Sweet as a rose
Pale as a lily
With nerves calm and steady
A girl who is never silly
Who knows blood as love
Chemicals as kindness
Blades as servants
Death as a friend
Alive
But not clinging to it
Young
But aged beyond her years
Beautiful
But so very distanced
With a foot inside the grave
And the other in her fathers room
She isn't living and she isn't dead
But she can pretend to be both
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