You have only seen yourself two times. One, taking a picture and looking at the lovely image, Two, staring at the mirror and looking at your dainty reflection…
You don’t get to see how your eyes glisten, When you look up…
You don’t get to know how Your face lights up, When you talk about something you love…
Or witness how pretty you are, Whenever you laugh and smile—
You can never see how beautiful you are, It’s kind of sad actually.
But I’ll be there. I’ll be there to tell you exactly what I see— * —I see fissures on your lips as you speak, as you laugh, as you frown.
I watch closely as flood gushes… Storms of tears flowing through your eyes.
I look intently at your pale thin cheeks, Looking at how they **** in.
Every moment smaller— Every second slower—
Observing every micrometer of your face, Gosh, you’re still so beautiful… But we both know, That your beauty can never be mine. Neither it be his—
Gazing upon your face, One last time, One last chance,
Bleakly hoping I can memorise your smile…
Mesmerised one last while… One. Last. Look.
It’s a little bit sad. Only I saw your beauty. And now it belongs to the ground.
2017 August--- This poem is actually a collaboration between me and someone important: F.S. She always had homicidal tendencies, but believe it or not, the end part was the part I wrote.