Lost_and_fallen
October 2nd, 2005, 11:22 AM
Not one of my better poems....
--------------------------------------------------------------
She appeared at my door with shallow cuts on each cheek where the tears had carved their way through her powder.
There was no sliding mascara
(she wasn’t wearing any)
The were no black streaks of eyeliner
(she wasn’t wearing any)
Just deeps ravines on each cheek where the tears had lovingly slashed at her face.
And she looked up at me through unseeing murky pools of brown and smiled to let me know she was going to be fine.
It was only then that I saw her arm was on the other side of the door where I couldn’t see and I stepped forward and looked around the door frame. I saw a boy, leaning against the wall, staring at his battered trainers, holding onto her hand so tightly that his knuckles were white. He raised his eyes to give me a quick, guilty look and it was then that I realised he was stealing her.
He was leaving and her tears weren’t for him, they were for me, because she was leaving too.
I couldn’t blame her really.
And as her tainted, powder tears broke on my shoes, I let them go.
--------------------------------------------------------------
She appeared at my door with shallow cuts on each cheek where the tears had carved their way through her powder.
There was no sliding mascara
(she wasn’t wearing any)
The were no black streaks of eyeliner
(she wasn’t wearing any)
Just deeps ravines on each cheek where the tears had lovingly slashed at her face.
And she looked up at me through unseeing murky pools of brown and smiled to let me know she was going to be fine.
It was only then that I saw her arm was on the other side of the door where I couldn’t see and I stepped forward and looked around the door frame. I saw a boy, leaning against the wall, staring at his battered trainers, holding onto her hand so tightly that his knuckles were white. He raised his eyes to give me a quick, guilty look and it was then that I realised he was stealing her.
He was leaving and her tears weren’t for him, they were for me, because she was leaving too.
I couldn’t blame her really.
And as her tainted, powder tears broke on my shoes, I let them go.