Give me advice on how to improve?

The coffin my body is nestled in appears suspended in mid-air, placed on a table so akin to its surroundings I could swear it was merely a reflection from the pool of water opposite. The mortician’s had yet to close my eyes, yet to¬¬ overcome the fear any mortal was exposed to, the second they met my gaze. I had eyes darker than tree bark, fathomless pits of solidified honey that knew everything yet revealed nothing. I recall how I used to tease her with those same intense eyes, how I brandished that lighter as though it were a weapon. I made her believe a simple flame was her worst nightmare. I doubt she has ventured near a fire since that one haunting night two months ago to this day. Play with fire, and you’re bound to get hurt. I mentally shake myself. My attention has left her person. This is not good. I must watch her every move, and slip into her body the second she leaves the church. It’s going to be so easy. She’s a dead girl.