Hazelnut brown, the color of her eyes as if they were just picked off the tree.
Impeccable, intelligent, studios
Peachy the color of her perfectly plump lips that quivver from the cold touch of that dark december night,
Beautiful,  confident, smart
Brown wavy hair that waves a gentle goodbye in the breeze
Pristine, pure, perfect
She is perfect to me….
Blinded by her beauty i turn to tell her my thoughts, so captivated by her perfection, i sit silent.
She unknowing of my thoughts, fears, and asperations,
Walks away
She looks in the mirror,
Broken, alone, tired, fearful,
Words we would not use to describe such perfection as her…
Stressed, bleak, ugly,
Tears stream down her face one by one getting faster and hotter
Sorrowful, depressed, mad
All the words burning and racing in her head
“No one would even know if i was dead...”