January 7, 2008
Sketch and dirty
Violently beautiful
And o she has secrets
And o she has lies
But that’s half the battle, half the attraction
The mystery, the story, the unknown
Scratch marks and imperfections
Rocky, brash, with invisible fear
Invisible exist, just without the face
A determined face, a face to prove you wrong
A face to prove the world
Glowing eyes, like dying embers
Last of her kind, last of mankind
Dehumanizing manipulating unknown
To her exquisite charm and grace. With black hair
And a shot of gin to coincide with her false sense of reality
Like a storm, not understood and rising above the aggressor
She brings in lighting and hail.
A shroud of misty fog loosens the chill night,
And marks immeasurable distances as it graces her limits
With an eloquent touch, a taste, a whisper in the ear
Something about her that is just that, something
Dark candles in a white room, it’s opaque and unreadable
The way she likes it, cloudy
As the heat dies down, the coals give up a lesser fight
The charred core reveals everything, everything worth keeping
Still, you wish she wouldn’t stop burning
Violently blazing, a series of beautiful lies

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