She walks towards them

Effortlessly, blatantly

Her footsteps leaving stains of purity

She wishes for a different type of mark

She wanted to taste regret

Hoping for a scar to appear

Or perhaps the rain to fall

 

Unsure

She took time with her creation

Strands of her hair

Tangled, yet lovely

The threads she covered herself with

Nothing special

Black

Between her thighs

Surround her waist

 

It was the color of desire

To be wanted

But it didn't feel right

He didn't say the right things

 

She glimmered in the sun

Smiled as she moved,

But when the moon appeared

She was broken all over

 

Revealing cracks and all

Bruised and wounded

She had covered them

And began to wonder

 

What was this all for,

Herself, or for Them?