She sought death on a king-sized bed

Darling, your looks can kill, but you could never be an assassin.
You're infatuating, but you could never be a narcotic.
Your smile entices many, but could never be the cause of happiness.
Your delicate stature is complimented, but could never be loved for what lays beneath.
Your optimistic spirit is admired, but cannot last forever.
And so, with one last insufflation of despondency, you lift your jaded blade in the hopes of finally satiating the imperfections shrilling for attention.