She

If you believe she is beautiful because the ways her eyes still smile
regarldess the scars on her body,
worn wrinkles of saddness that framed her eyes filled with saddness
Marks that are permanent due to her giving away her heart to those who
only needed a rug let themselves in and walked out intentions
of making sure her light was out
Her eyes had seen to much for such a small fragment as a lifetime
Her mind is the battlefield and she wears it as her best attire
Saving her has been the way these words fall with grace along the page
Trauma hammered into her bones welded doors open now that will never close
The stones thrown carved out a gorgeous world of her own
She created the streams that flowed as tears marked painful memory bestowed
Her sky always violet as it is a humble calm hue a remembering of who she was before the rise of storms changed all she knew
Her strength is somthing not even herself will know may it be weak because of the belief of things unseen or
strong in stature becuase
today she is still breathing
the_buried_poet
©buriedpoet