Self-Portrait of The Final Girl in (Untitled)

The final girl mourns slaughtered mortal souls.

Crying among mangled remains of ill-fated friends.

The final girl pleads on coarse, cut knees.

In shredded jeans soaking up crimson streams.

The final girl glances at death’s crisp stare.

Reeling from the grim grasp of its reaper.

The final girl flees through blurred, deep green.

Weaving past an arsenal of hidden schemes.

The final girl fears the face of her fatal foe.

Whilst silhouettes in the twilight twist her sight.

The final girl grips Altheas’ severed hand.

Pooling blood after each rooted step.

The final girl held steadfast will.

Till entrails oiled earth’s slick soil.

The final girl falters from the marked trail.

Her mind now adrift, no longer aware.

The final girl whispers silent byes to her first love.

Betrothed to Theo, who now stains the Appalachian.

The final girl ponders how she ended up in this situation.

Pinching herself, hoping to wake up from the simulation.

The final girl contemplates her affliction.

The distorted reflection of her introspection.

The final girl clears to a crepuscular bank.

Staring at her mirrored form marred by murky faith.

The final girl no longer frets the deranged killer.

For her fate now rests within her wicked wield.

The final girl mocks her malice marauder.

Tearing the tatters of her tethered clothes.

The final girl wades, bare into the bleak, drifting away.

Ending her dreadful horror story silently, her way.