Perfect Maniac

She's an artist. Called ridiculous many times. Pressured. The voices said to. Soon enough her own did too. She stared in the mirror unsure. Unsure why she wasn't what she wanted to be. She was an artist. A perfectionist. She knew she could change her face. She just wanted to do it her self.

Looking in the mirror, knife in hand she mumbled many things. Blood covered what she found herself to love. They had always said love yourself. Know, why was this not acceptable? She loved it. Why couldn't others?

She use to contour. She hated that it wouldn't last. She hated her face. Everyone else seemed a work of art. She knew she had an ability to change herself. So she did. Contouring with a knife. Slits at a time. Looking in the mirror once again. Blood ran down her face. Skin missing. She murmured.

"Perfect."