The surface
So blank
Although it's clean
You can't see through it
The sparkles in her eyes
Might as well be tears
The pretty smile
Hiding something
She is beauty
Her soul is black
She is grace
She is falling
YOU ARE READING
Evanesco
PoetryWriting about depression, bipolar and confusion. From personal experience from when I was swallowed in darkness and failed to see the light all around me.
