the seas rippled through the glass that were her eyes
any minute they would burst into waves following the grooves of her cheeks
her lips are quivering like tree branches in a storm
she has to bite them to stop them from shaking
a flood, an earthquake, a hurricane in the making
she wondered how long she had until she felt her resistance breaking
like a natural disaster, she was a melancholic
morose and silent, but statistics showed she was just being an adolescent
even when her wishes of numbed pain went down the drain
they just said she had a lugubrious face
they barely scraped any deeper afraid of what they would find beyond the surface
beneath her forehead were demons lurking in every crevice, every nook and every cranny
how do you tell someone there were ghosts in your head haunting your perception of everything?
that each time someone complimented you
these ghosts convinced you that they were lying
how they heightened your insecurity making you feel such inadequacy
they were the dark parts of her thoughts and she and them were shaking hands, becoming friends
her thoughts now bore sepulchral tones
she had accepted defeat
and now they were speeches at her own funeral
a word of advice; don't make deals with the devil