It's Midnight (Edited)

She licks her wounds clean.
Her thumping heart leaves that burning sensation.
She still hasn’t a clue what this means
She tries, but fails to resist temptation.

With her fingers, she traces her black and blue bruises.
Then, she runs them through her cobwebbed hair.
She lives this desolate life how she chooses.
Her body is present, but her mind is always elsewhere.

Her scars burn quite deepishly
But, those eyes do nothing but linger.
She looks up at you and smiles sheepishly,
And to her mouth she places a delicate finger.

There are so many unanswered questions,
Yet, there is so little time.
You would think that by now she’d learn her lesson.
What she is doing is without a doubt a crime.

Her feline figure slinks away.
Come on! There must be a reason why,
She commits this sin day by day,
And when she’s done, she lies here to cry.