And he saw her there
on the balcony
poised like a china doll,
frozen in her picture perfect pose.
He saw her there
her face caked in unnecessary make-up,
hands and ears and fingers adorned in sparkling jewelry,
the ornaments clouding and obscuring the beauty underneath.
With a shimmering dress far beyond exorbitant for her flawless form.
(There was something admirable in simple beauty.)
Simplicity –
That's all he longed for from her.
As she stood there
with a fake smile plastered on her face
(he could tell – her grin was streched too wide)
and an artificial laugh – (given only for protocol).
Making conversation,
exchanging words she didn't care for in the slightest.
It frustrated him to no end.
Was genuineness overlooked in this material world?
Had superficiality taken over their souls so?
He just wanted to peel back her overdone makeover
and idolize the treasure he knew lay underneath.
He wanted to tear her away from the manufactured conversation she was having,
and force her into telling him what she dreamed about – what she really believed in.
Because he knew he wanted her,
not the false perfect image she had created for everyone else.
YOU ARE READING
salvation
Poesía"and isn't it terrifying? that in a fraction of a moment you can fall in the kind of love that takes a lifetime to get over."
