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Lilting voice and soft eyes with black smudges underneath them. The world is colorless and she is colorless. The taste of air on her tongue, she savors each molecule. The contraction of her stomach muscles as she vomits repeatedly into the flowerbed.

On bad nights she inspects every bit of skin. Looks at the way her stomach caves in and how there is a growing space between her thighs. It reminds her that she will soon disappear. She will evaporate in the sunlight like water. Cold breakable body in the bathtub. The doctors watch as blood seeps from underneath the bathroom door. There is nothing they can do. Bundle her into her coat and try to cart her off to the hospital. Ugly sneers and thin lipped smiles that are hard and yet soft. The other residents shy away from her, her personality like biting on tinfoil. She curses and smokes cigarette after cigarette. Her lungs are most likely black and soon to be dead. It doesn't matter.

She dreams of the red death, red mist in her lungs. A pack of double edged blades in her shoes. She ties the bedsheets elaborately and easily slips her head into the smooth clothed noose they make. The other residents are in medicated sleep. They don't know she hides the pills underneath her tongue and spits them out when they're not looking.

Head in the noose, heart in a cage. Standing on a precipice. She says boo and makes her choice. Fuck if she knows what it is.