Beauty is not ordained in the faces of terror ;most with scar faces admired; sneaking in silence.
The heart was filled with desire .
The beauty smiles and lives .Their feet were soft and not cursive. Sweet words filled their mouths as honey in a jar.
Running as they reflect their light; chuckling as butterflies hang in their hands and shoulders; beauty is the perception of perfect.
The unnoticed is like the bees forever working for the sweetness and watching as it is given out.
The sore in their heart ;
scarred body is truly worthy the curses.
Like a clingy moth ; destroys when attached. Too dark to look enticing , too dark for their desire of the light.
.
