8. She
She handled herself like a broken piece of porcelain,
delicate yet defeated.
Lying there shattered made her realize in a minute,
that she became worthwhile to futile,
appealing to abhorrent and from loved to shunned.
People were not to be blamed; it was her fault to be flawed,
and if her feelings had been associated into words,
delicate yet defeated.
Lying there shattered made her realize in a minute,
that she became worthwhile to futile,
appealing to abhorrent and from loved to shunned.
People were not to be blamed; it was her fault to be flawed,
and if her feelings had been associated into words,
She was just not made for this untarnished world.
So she tied her hair back, looked in the mirror,
with her black eyes that had more shades than it could have been possible for any color.
She could see herself in the mirror but wasn’t the same.
Something was different, and surely it was fading away,
That moment perhaps defied the laws of physics, and it was surely different.
Something had changed, she was brighter, she glazed like fire,
So she tied her hair back, looked in the mirror,
with her black eyes that had more shades than it could have been possible for any color.
She could see herself in the mirror but wasn’t the same.
Something was different, and surely it was fading away,
That moment perhaps defied the laws of physics, and it was surely different.
Something had changed, she was brighter, she glazed like fire,
Her face had an un-occasional stir of glow,
it could have been the golden fairy dust,
but she was no tinker bell, for she was a girl on fire.
but she was no tinker bell, for she was a girl on fire.