She is a ton of mess, as ugly as sin
Confined in a flagon by contrast, hate and lies.
She exists within herself rusting her flare,
Bears the pain of living inside a shell
Because she knows they will cut her head
If she plucks up courage to live like a tiger.
The half smile that she puts on her soft lips
Doesn't let the words break free off her tongue,
And Buries the faint hope that rises quite often
In the place of detention in her erratic heart.
And wonders if she can ever come out of that jar of jail
And summon to face the other side where the devils reside.
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Esoteric
PuisiIt's okay to be weird, it's okay to love the things which most do not. She is esoteric, she is not out and out but she is madness and madness is a beautiful irony where perfection and flaws are the best of friends. She is the definition of everythin...
