Beautiful Chaos

She

*Warning this piece deals with suicide*

The mighty oak tree was strong, old, ancient even

It's mighty timbers stretching on for miles

The bark was rough between her fingers

The leaves soft, supple, a feeling of home

Trunk thickening, branches growing

Making something better, smarter

The metal was rugged, dirty, until it was polished to perfection

Hours of long labour to make the ugly beautiful

The pitted whet stone going over the steel

Shearing away the years of dirt and secrets

Refining, recreating, moulding steel with flesh

Creating walking perfection

But that wasn't enough for them

There will never be enough

So the cold biting steel did what it does best

It burrowed its sharp, relentless edge into her wrists

Until the boughs of the tree supported her

Long after you stopped hearing her scream