And cracked lips and pale skin were some of the few ways to describe her.
Hair tangled, eyes wild.
Smile frozen, frown melting.
Thorned tongue and poisonous words.
Long legs, short character.
Something out of a nightmare.
Sometimes.

But cracked lips dyed red and pale skin turned tan could also categorize her just the same.
Hair neat, eyes calm.
Smile melting, frown frozen.
Tempting tongue and poisonous words.
Long legs, long character.
Something out of a paradise.
Sometimes.

To capture her essence would be to encapture something incomplete.
Like a flower that hasn’t bloomed.

To describe her using words would a great injustice because she is more than just ciphers.
She is more than a flower that has bloomed.

To describe her in one specific mood wouldn’t even be correct because I could swear that even as her eyes are wild there is calm and her lips are still cracked when red and her thorned tongue is tempting all the same and I, unfortunately, am not gifted enough to use my words and trap her in black and white. So this is all that I can muster from my very inner thoughts upon a girl whose hand grips tightest on my
heart.