With lion eyes reflecting milky skies
And the ease of a starless night slipping through her fingertips
We watched and pondered
And she silently cried
Not out of sadness, still
She twisted her composure so tight
That’s her flesh ripped and a thousand moths took flight
So we managed our crooked smiles as her lips caressed a quiver
Knowing that her inner flame would no longer ignite, because addiction had dampened the stories within her
And for a time it remained unclear
If her release portrayed the art of acceptance
Or if she’d dispersed all of her fears
Yet we continued to furrow our self consumed faces
With a flinch every time she reflected in the mirrors