She’s Beautiful.

• 

“She takes the stage, becomes a goddess yet again. “

I eye her everyday, she’s never seen me but i know her.
Her smile, her laugh, the way she looks at the camera,
How she lies to the crowd, that she’s not nervous,
And makes them her audience, how they eat from her palm.
They find her voice sweet as she sings her pain away.
It seems made up, like beauty made of makeup,
But she owns it all, the pain; and the beauty of it.
She has a secret, a few actually.
They get her high, and she keeps mum about it.
She leaves the stage, leaves her perfect image behind the curtains,
And goes home, not really home, but it’s  her house,
Where she lives, with, and by herself.
Noone knows her urge for blood, few know of the scars.
She has to smile all the time, or else they’ll know.
She’s not really hiding it; she just won’t tell.
She’s pretty even while wearing a frown, but makes a big difference with her smile,
Her body’s an elitist’s masterpiece, but there’s more to her than that.
She’s strong and a good actor, so  you’ll never notice her burden,
A self-confessed glass of wine, now cracked fom inconsiderate sippers.
She attempts to fix herself, deepens the cracks,
Recoils from observation, relishes isolation.
She is loved as before, but feels less of it.
She’s fighting anxiety now, and I’m still watching.
Still working on myself, polishing my image.
Hoping she lets in Noone, that chance leans to me.
Time is what we each pay, I’m waiting to be better, she’s getting worse.
Thinking she’s not good enough, or pretty enough.
I don’t deserve her maybe, how could i?
The ritual resumes tonight, I arrive a bit earlier.
I watch her arrival, she has sadness in her walk.
She seems cold and I wish I could offer her warmth.
Maybe I can, maybe she’d welcome it.
But how would I know, when our eyes only lock when I glance at her photos?
She takes the stage, becomes a goddess yet again.
I sigh slowly, deeply, painfully but still,
I can’t help but think, that she’s so damn beautiful.