I'm Not Gonna Talk About Doubts and Confusion On A Night When I Can See with My Eyes Shut

She was a wallflower in loud colours;
Her aesthetics begged attention, and yet,
Those lightning eyes would never quite focus,
And her mind would shirk from the gentlest touch.
Wasted, withering, flound'ring on the wall:
She steadied herself in the cracks, he thought.
But it wasn't support. The wall was hers.
She owned it, coiled around and controlled it;
And he, with fears daily twisting his gut,
Held no grace such as that she exuded
Silently, like perfume; had neither poise
Nor confidence that blossomed like petals.
No. She would never talk of doubt like him;
So sure that she could see with her eyes shut.

The End

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