Make Up

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Left alone in the night;
She lies on the bed cold, and lifeless.
The candles are lit, but not bright.
The sharp aroma of alcohol linger in the air along with the scene of crimson stained everywhere.
On the counter, rested the make up that she uses,
When ever we went out,
to cover the bruises.
But she won't be needing those anymore,
that's for sure.

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