It was quite easy to fall for her
with lips like those
and skin as beautiful as hers.
but she told him to look pass
these
for skin is just skin
and lips tell lies.
she then opened up her scars
and showed him her wounds
like she had never done before
and he realized that
she was just another broken
butterfly
that hid behind the glitters
of a fake perfection.
In all of these years
he crawled
back to her
through gravels and bottles
not to listen to her
perfect songs of angels
but
to dance
with her
brokenness.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Madness
PoetryThe Lonely Poet Love Letters to the wolf princess in blue Him and Her I write to pour out my feelings and my imaginations some of my poems may not make sense, but what is "sense" really? This is beautiful madness. Enjoy. Or Not. Victor Forna
