As I stare at your lifeless corpse; beautiful, even in death
My eyes rake your form, taking in the purity and innocence
That once radiated from your every pore, before this day
I start from your head, covered in a mass of soft auburn waves
Its beauty now a knotted and matted mess, the shine somehow dulled
And the texture now rough; only I am able to remember its true form
I move to your face, still and silent, your features proving perfection
Your eyes, once bright and brown, are now wide, staring, empty
My fingers trace your lips, soft, pale and slightly opened; my heart is saddened
Now at your neck, my fingers trace the punctures and slashes
The congealed blood spoils the softness of your skin
I bite down upon my lip, fighting against the tears that threaten to spill
My fingers brush along your shoulders, also flawed with wounds
And more than once I wonder … Why you, instead of me?
The thought swirls in my head and nausea rises from the pit of my stomach
As I run my hand along your mangled arm, I reach your hand
And I entwine our fingers together, like so many nights before
I gently press your hand to my cheek, memories overwhelming my mind and body
My eyes are now lowered to your bloodied breast and navel
The material covering them is shredded, exposing you to anyone who saw
I am humiliated on your behalf; I remove my jacket, placing it over you
I have now reached your legs; they are slender and limp
One is twisted at an unnatural angle, jutting out harshly to the side
As carefully as I can, I move your broken leg to lie next to the other
As I entwine our fingers once more, my other hand touches your face
Ever so gently, I lean my head down and place a kiss upon your lips
This time there is no fighting it; I raise my head, a tear drips mournfully down my cheek
Though your body is broken and mutilated, I still look at you with love
Because to me, you are still beautiful, you are still pure
And you are still, and will forever be … just my Bella.