In the eye of the beholder

In the eye of the beholder,
Beauty isn’t always followed in
a trail of rose pedals. 
Sometimes it comes in 
jagged pink edges and 
splintered hands. 

Sometimes it comes with 
the chill of nightfall and 
the ashes a fire leaves in its wake. 
Sometimes it comes in 
broken ties and 
hidden agendas,
In disfigured limbs and 
bruised lips. 

Sometimes beauty can be 
as dark and unclear as 
our ability to understand it. 

And that is okay with me. 

BIATA, ‘conventional is small for me’

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s