When you venture back to reflect.
Hearts break . . when she smiles. .
Tears, a silent stream
Imperfection on an otherwise perfect canvas.
Dreams, laughter in a deserted field.
Outward . . A cool vision in silk
Inward . . . A tormented child . . .
Waiting to be freed . . . .
Do you hold my key?
Her first, last and only words to me.
A single moment . . a single grain of sand . .
The ever emptying hourglass.
Guardians find sadness to be insanity . . . . . . . . . . . .
Swaddle me tight
Block out my words
Blot out the sun, with this coffin
Sanctuary . . . . A cruel lie.
Tied in a satin bow, put on display.
Smile . . simper . . And compliment.
Rules of existence . .
Play my part . . . don’t slip
While walking that fine . . . .
A sad little existence
For that little confection.
Not a story you want to recollect.
A story that ends in satin bows . .
A perfect canvas . . . with one imperfection . .
Silk wrapped neck . . Twisted at the wrong angle
While satin bowed slippers dangle by precious little toes.
A warped reflection . . .
When beauty is shattered.
A tattered angel . . .
By: Tasha Gwartney
August 20, 2011