My Mistake,
An accusation
based on poor accumulations.
Her angelic
looks graffitied by devastation
Her
eyes bursting with despair.
Her
head filled with what could have been, but can be no more.
We
sit face to face; she occasionally breaks through the tide to peer at me.
I
stare at the result of my destruction,
My
skin pale with regret and sorrow.
Her
skin beaming as the light bounces from her watery complexion.
Making
her glow.
I
slowly move towards her,
Trying
not to shatter her fragile interior,
I
gently polish my thumb across her cheek,
Trying
not to scar her wounded exterior.
I
feel her tears fall onto my guilt soaked soul,
With
her cup of strength half empty,
She
pushes my hand away.
My
hope leaks away like the mascara from her eyes.
Knowing
that my error is fatal,
I turn away for the
last time.
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