Wednesday, July 15, 2015


She often has that look
Sharp but blunt, broken but stitched together

Eyes that often tell stories
Of nights, of wet pillows and muffled sobs

With a feeling, that everything slips
Right between her fingers

An ache spreading beyond her heart
Words failing to express what the lips murmur

Putting on her kajal and mascara
Hiding the dark circles around the light blue eyes

Mindful of the scars

On her mind and her soul..

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