She was so tragically beautiful. The type of beautiful that
desperately hid behind stained edges of wine glasses and
hourglass figured gowns. She was the kind of gorgeous that
displayed skin as clear as fresh snow to distract from
insecurities that attacked her mind like sharpened daggers. Her
mascara was almost as dark as her thoughts and her teeth as white
as her lies. As for her eyes, they changed as quickly as her
moods did. But if they were blue, they were sure to be the most
mesmerizing shade of blue you had ever encountered.
Her personality
was sporadic. Unpredictable. Monday she would be shining brighter
than the north star. Her smile was unlike any you had ever seen,
outlined by lips as dark as blood. A glorious contradiction that
portrayed her nature so well that you would think it was planned;
but it wasn’t. In fact, she hardly planned anything. But
despite her lack of strategy, she never failed to get what she
wanted. Her voice was impossible to ignore. She never needed to
explain herself because no one would dare argue with even a
syllable that flowed through her teeth. Each word met the ears
like a love song, and before you could catch yourself, she would
have you tucked deep in her pocket.
Then by Wednesday
she would be so vigilant that you’d think she had just been
hit by a line of traffic mere minutes before. I swear, you had
never seen a person who so greatly resembled a newborn fawn. She
was still learning how to walk, but not trusting the world enough
to help her. Your heart would break with each downward twitch of
her chops. Her once tan skin would lighten to a color that
resembled old paper, but the consistency was more similar to thin
glass. You would be cautious to speak too loud near her, for fear
that the sound waves would cause her to shatter.
"Oh, how I wish you could have met her while she was
still alive" ~ r.m.
