She Used to be Beautiful

She used to be beautiful.

The kind of beauty that

Really mattered-

A kind soul,

Self-worth found in every moment

And the courage to stand up for those who can’t defend themselves,

An independent spirit-

Even if she was trapped in a dependent state.

 

We would lay

Nestled close together,

Listening to each other’s hearts,

In the great field-

Wild flowers peaking up at as from the edges of out blanket

As we watched the stars.

 

We would go dancing-

Her grin smiling brighter than

The Christmas lights permanently hanging over her back porch.

She would wave her arms to the beat

As I twirled her around in her chair.

 

And afterwards,

I would wheel her back in the sweet summer air

And when I leaned down to kiss her,

The lights left beauty spots on us

As they twinkled overhead.

 

She used to be beautiful.

It didn’t matter she was different.

 

But then,

Suddenly,

To her it did.

 

There were no more

Nighttime star gazing.

 

There were no more

Darkroom dancing.

 

There were no more

Twinkling lights kisses.

 

Instead,

There were only sad days

Full of watching her look over the field,

Out of the window as she sat at the kitchen table,

With weep hands and glazed over eyes.

 

There were only silence

And somber lips

And nothing to be said.

 

There were only my soft begging for her to eat something,

Anything,

And her screaming

Don’t look at me!

Don’t touch me!

And the final,

Broken,

I-I… Just want to be alone.

And me retreating,

Hand that had reach out to help

Feeling red and stung from her angry words,

To the other room

And eventually,

To another life.

 

There were no more

Bright grins shining out through the darkness.

 

There was only the cruel light

That had taken in all away.

 

She used to be beautiful. 

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