She never looked pretty. She looked like art. Her hair never looked picture perfect, she didn't wear a lot of make up, her clothes were vibrant colors of yellows, oranges, greens, and blues mixed with dark shades or black, grey, brown, and blood red.
She never looked pretty. She had a crooked smile, and constant exhausted eyes. She wore glasses and always read more than she talked. She was quiet and reserved.
But like art, it didn't matter how she looked. It wasn't about how she looked. It was about how she made you feel
YOU ARE READING
Poems and Thoughts (Book 2) {HIATUS}
PoetryJust some poems about how I'm feeling at any given point of the day. Mostly depressing stuff. This used to be "Here's Some Inspiration," but I made that an entirely different story on my page, so if you are looking for more inspirational happy writi...
