Disclaimer: Victorious is not mine, but really, couldn't you tell?

/

Cut to the quick

A snip, bit too deep

Sting and hiss, a lip bandage

Iron tongue touches.

It's better now.

Bad idea, cutting nails in the dark,

Clipping crescent moons that don't shine.

Send them to the stars up above

Glimmering radioactive green,

A sickly glow.

Stick-on stars; her own little universe.

She wants to go star-gazing,

But the night is a line she can't toe.

Snug in her bed is better;

False safety for false stars.

Even stars die, though

Just like people, she thinks.

Some go softly, quietly

A gradual fading until-

We twinkle no more.

Some collapse catastrophically,

Claw at space with utter melancholy,

Scrabbling fingernails on a slippery surface.

Please don't go.

That's not for Cat.

Blood and toothpaste tickling tastebuds.

She's going out with a bang.

/

A/N: A quick little thing, ugly and awkward, but when inspiration strikes, it's with drunken force.

Reviews are ever so appreciated.