she wasn't beautiful as
she was
tragic; and when we
tarnished people see
honest tragedy, we cannot
seem to drag our
eyes away.
she wasted away with every exhale.
we stared and tried to
take her in before
she faded.
Beautiful.
Temporary.
Fading.
Soon, any chaos nipping at
her fingers will disappear, so we
hunt for it in snapshots.
And we tell her,
"This is art."
YOU ARE READING
look up
Poetrynot bitter, not sweet. life is both, and sometimes we need to be reminded of that. so, look up and realize the truth.
