A girl. A beautiful girl. A girl with big brown eyes. A goofy, yet beautiful, crooked smile. Quiet from afar yet so amazing when you knew her. She was deep. Poetic. Lovely. Broken. She knew more than anyone on the outside would ever think. They saw her for her intelligence, but she was so much more. She was a writer. She was a girl who had so much passion about the smallest things. She felt pain even when she looked so perfect. She didn't accept compliments. Never. Beautiful? No she said. Smart? No she would say. Amazing? Not at all she said. She didn't accept what she was. Not when I told her with my whole heart. Not when strangers said it in a passing thought because they honestly felt it. Never. She was a mystery to me. She is a mystery to me. But she's my mystery. And that's all that matters.
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thoughts.
PoetryPoems, stories, honesty. Everything you want to say but you can't. Typed words that are hardly ever spoken aloud. Truth. The good, the bad and the ugly. Thoughts that are often trapped inside the mind for days, months, years. Kept locked away, never...
