I’ve been told all my life that everything I touch will turn to gold,
and that the palm of my hand is made of diamonds.
If it were possible, a trail of glitter would follow me everywhere I go,
and my hair would shine like sapphires in the moonlight.
My lips are made of ruby,
my eyes the color of exquisite aquamarine.
But the true light of my life, or lack thereof,
is what remains unseen.
There is no sparkle, no glitz, no sheen
and what everyone else sees is simply an intriguing mirage.
Everything I touch crumbles into nothing
and the glitter I’m known to exude is really silver dust.
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 12:16 AM UTC
I’ve been told all my life that everything I touch will turn to gold,
and that the palm of my hand is made of diamonds.
If it were possible, a trail of glitter would follow me everywhere I go,
and my hair would shine like sapphires in the moonlight.
My lips are made of ruby,
my eyes the color of exquisite aquamarine.
But the true light of my life, or lack thereof,
is what remains unseen.
There is no sparkle, no glitz, no sheen
and what everyone else sees is simply an intriguing mirage.
Everything I touch crumbles into nothing
and the glitter I’m known to exude is really silver dust.
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