Shawna
2018-01-01 03:17:13 UTC
with a type of stability that make you jolt up in your seat and stumble on words.
she has no business being so refined, beautiful, and statuesque,
because you can see the depraved psyche below her one dimensional disposition.
don't trust the maiden with the malicious soul and deceitful truths,
don't spare her a glance, because she will become your bane,
because you would never salvage the remnants of your anima
and all for her "smile", one microscopic and only out for someone's oblivion.
her real smile bought the farm a while ago.
]inklike, starless sky's fill her life with the most happiness she has left,
and the highest of woes, since the night always ends with the sights of effulgence.
the branches are so fragile, it hurts her to crack them, in the dark of night,
and sometimes you must wonder, what perverted life she must have lead for her life to be so bitter.
she is the portrait of a woman so far dissipated and and withdrawn,
that the unmeasurably magnificent quirks of life are dabbed from her canvas.
and her painting is almost devoid of the yellow so essential to a palette.
you should beware of her, for the cessation of happiness she casts as she walks,
beware, for her penitence is a sliver of the slightest of slivers.
be wary if your eyes ever rest on each other's.