She was beautiful in a serene way
But ferocious storms swirled in her eyes
Hidden by her smiles
And she fought a war with herself
At 4 am each night
Between who she wanted to be and who society told her to be
She fought cold wars between her and others
She was artillery
Destroying those in her way and destroying her own self
She had the wind in her hair
The ocean in her laugh
The night sky in her rising breaths
Rainbows in the palm of her hands
And hurricanes in her heart
But in her soul she was torn
Too evolved for a world still stuck in time
Too open for a man who was afraid of change,
afraid to let go of his own jail of limitations
And so like him, she was trapped
Between doing what's normal and what is the unorthodox
And that is why, even laying next to him
She was gone
Like twilight or a lonely afternoon
There, beautiful, but striking an impending sense of loneliness in the person observing her
She wrestled with cyclones that formed in her throat yet never made it out
Choked on clouds of thoughts
Riddled with faults
But still scintillating like a sun
She was the misunderstood one
The storm no man could predict coming
The destruction he didn't want to rebuild
She was the remnant of a ruin
The faded stain, the broken brick,
the shattered glass, the chipped paint, the weathered home
She was the half forgotten melody
The shadow you thought you saw
The chaos you once mistook for beauty
But she was devastating
and beautiful once
And she came and went
And now he understood
why people always ached to touch a shooting star
© L.A. Fraser
