so you want to peek into
the windows
that are
her eyes?
never will you be able to handle what you see.
when your eyes
meet the window
pane
is evident in her stare.
the glass is
c r a c k e d.
water pours out from time to time.
she is the reason they say
"if looks could kill"
because she's a trained assassin
with her gun-like glance
but no one will know
what's inside.
even when she draws the curtains,
she can still hear
the thunderous booming
of voices
calling out to her.
her soul is as broken
as the mirror
she smashed at seventeen
when the world told her that
she
was
not
beautiful.
i hope when you look,
you won't be tricked by the glare.
i hope you look long enough to find something beautiful in her,
find something beautiful in her,
please
find something beautiful in her.
i hope you get lost looking through the windows and find her lost too.
i want you to look in.
please look in,
but don't fall into the abyss of darkness,
the void of gloom and sorrow.
she wants you to look in.
oh God, please look in.
that's why she keeps the curtains open,
so that someone will look in.
YOU ARE READING
midnight musings
Poetryit's late, i'm awake, so i write. [some parts are lowercase and some are not. depends on my mood.]
