Every Girl I've Loved A Lifetime Ago

Lucille, Part 2

Lucille died with powder in her nose and blood on her knuckles.
The funeral was quiet and respectful.
It was only me, her mother, her cousins, and a handful of acquaintances.
Her straw colored hair was neat and untangled in a way that never was when she was alive.
They dressed her body in a green dress that made her look bloated. She would have hated it.
Her mother was sobbing uncontrollably. Tears leaking, nose clogged, pain in her words.
I offered my condolences, smiling tight and politely.
All I could think of was how glad I was that the morticians shut her eyes.
I don't know what I would do if I was to stare into Lucille's cornflower blue and not see her cruel glint.