she’s painted by a strong desire
her skin is delicate
heart even more
she’s a work of art
hiding her secrets within a vault
a vault no key of yours can open

her hair is blonde and shines in the sun
her feet hurt from running
for she may intrigue but you’ll never see
who she turns to when in need
her lungs too weak to carry
a sound so frail
you won’t hear it

but she flips through vinyl records
flicks her cheap paintbrush
turns the world to colours
for her mind is grey
exterior is yellow