that girl

61

smile

the smile you had given
before you went
the words that poured out
of your mouth
the way your skin lost
its colour

you had once said
it was best to smile through pain
now that same pain simply
made you smile

even then, you'd be the type of person
to burn everything down to feel
the warmth of it all

you'd sit back and watch the
world burn in despair, with
a cigarette in hand

you'd do anything
you were never a bad person
you had a story and no one
wanted to listen

they said, "laugh, laugh child!"
but you wept instead
and left people disappointed

you were a catastrophe
unknown to man; something
so wild and untouched
that it left people wanting
to know you more and more

when they found out that
comets colliding was not such a
big thing, they decided to stop
printing your story in black and white

"too boring." they claimed

your story was boring
you had nothing

your book painted
in crimson red blood meant
nothing

if it had heart, it
was never going to make it
if it had superficialities, it
will make it

your words will
never make it on print
even if it was distinct from
others

your story will just
be compiled in the category
of tragic stories

you had nothing
yet you kept going

and you still smiled

even when the world was vying for less
whilst you were still dying for more