The Girl in the Picture
She flies with her own wings.
The woman I fell for
“There is no real me,” she said,
“Only an entity of emptiness”
Left with nothing, losing all she cared for.
I look at her
And all I can see is a distant fulgurous star
With a light from a decade ago.
The promise I made
The wishes she had
I knew she was afraid
She and I, had a little tad
I look into her drab and delicate face
Deep inside resides a distraught girl
Angry at life for its cruelty and barbarity
Always cocooned in her empty shell of loneliness and loss
Desiring the warm embrace of a mother she lacks,
And the assurance that all will be well.
However much I try to be a recourse,
Her scars run deeper than I can reach.
Little miss perfectly flawed
I look at her, and she is a constant reminder
That sometimes when people are broken in some ways
They become unfixable.
Dunca9n 