Her tears dont fall in delicate droplets.
They stream down her cheeks,
Bringing the mascara and eyeliner with them
She looks like a wreck.
She looks in the mirror and only cries more.
Shes sees a fat, hideous, monster covered in scars and scratches.
Her nails drip her blood into the sink in pearls of crimson while
Her boyfriend pound on her bathroom door, begging to be let in.
She screamed then, angry and full of sorrow.
As she slid down the wall and to the cold tile floor,
She held her hair in her fists, rocking back and forth.
Why couldn't she just be perfect like everyone else?
Then the pleas and the begging fill her ears,
Not only from him, but from herself.
She urges herself to stop this self torment and just rise and be happy.
This seemed like a wonderful idea, but how could she?
She picked herself up off the floor and unlocked the bathroom door.
She was enveloped in strong arms within seconds of doing so.
He had her in his arms so tight that it seemed he would never let her go.
And he wouldn't.
As she cried and constantly apologized,
He kept stroking her hair and telling her that it was alright.
That he still loved her and that everyone still loved her
He will always love her.
She looked up in the mirror again and saw something
Different this time.
She saw an angel.
A broken angel with tears of gold.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry And Mixed Feelings
PoesíaSome poetry that I have written over the years. I WARN YOU NOW! SOME OF THEM ARE TRIGGERING! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
