That girl
an abstract beauty
with a dictionary of words unable to define her

She is perfectly imperfect
with a broken heart
that few will ever see

The way she spoke and moved
had boys chasing her like a setting sun
that was just too far away

She creates art with everything she does
and yet she remains unaware of the art
that is her own body, mind and soul

That abstractly beautiful girl

I wan't to be close to you
Feel connected to you
Emotionally and physically
No layers just skin on skin
Knowing that I don't have to hide anything
To see you raw, pure and free
So that when I look at you truth is all I see...

her sigh intoxicates the room
with harbored resentment gaining momentum
he lets the first, the second, the third notice
slip into the melted ice at the bottom of his drink
feeling warmth from an uneasy grip

it's a practiced sequence
forged in the fragments of lifeless dreams
who sometimes prefer to be called nightmares
depending on how much sleep they steal

the mental script ready behind the curtain of closed lips
looking for any distraction from the impending
borrowed lines from other failed conversations
still vibrant enough to sting

her walk declares distress
moving into his frame
a delicate decision capable
of damage he'd rather not embrace
but her course takes her beyond him
into some other end of the night
he catches only the sliver of a lonely face
imperfectly aligned with his expectations

But I have built my walls so
high and strong,
that I can't seem to find a way
to break them down.