Poetic Justice

She's not alright

She's beautiful,
Her words are magical,
And her eyes are doors that open another
World.
Her heart beats,
A thousand different tunes
Of hummingbirds and mockinjays.
Her mind is a haven,
Where roses and dandelions blossom.

She's pretty,
Her hair glows amongst the stars,
And her eyes are brighter than the day.
Her cheeks are touched with rosy pink,
And her lips are cherry buds.

She's fine,
With all the scars hidden on her arms,
The tears before the smiles,
The facades and the masks.
The timeless expression on her face,
And the constant echo of her laughter,
Travelling through the ground.

She's okay,
With bites on her tongue,
And skipped beats in her heart.
With fragile fingers and shaky arms.
Legs walking tall,
But about to give in.

I thought she was perfect,
Turns out,
She's not alright,
Coz yesterday her tears became too much,
And her scars travelled too far down,
Her legs refused to carry her any longer,
And as that beautiful mind,
Told her hand,
To place the gun against her head,
Bristling past her pretty hair,
Her fine laughter replaced with shrieks,
Her shaky fingers,
Pressed the trigger,
And that's when everyone knew,
She was never alright.