Today I sat Infront of her,
Watching silently as the chaos inside her, would stir.
Her pale freckles hid shyly from the moonlight,
Not knowing what internal struggle, she needed to fight.
Her eyes the colour of the untouched parts of the ocean,
Untold tales of the sailor’s emotion.
The storms brewed quietly with no expression,
The clouds darkened in her eyes with untold confession.
Her lips drew up into a smile,
This is a road, I could see, she has walked for a while.
Her feet clean yet bruised from the path,
Always underestimating her own wrath.
Her skin the colour of a cold winter’s day,
Her Soul, like raw unmoulded clay.
Her hair shone like an angel’s halo,
But her spirit was like an erupted volcano.
Elegant in her destruction,
But ignorant to her own deconstruction.
It was only once she had turned everything to ash,
That the wall she built came down in a crash.
No one was left to bleed,
Now all she had left, was the words turned into a seed.
I watched her nurture and grow,
Days passed as the world turned into snow.
Spring came and her seed bloomed,
Whilst she ensured her demons were entombed.
 
So today, I sat Infront of her,
And forgave the things that were.