Her name is Grace

Look at her, look deeply…

I knew her.

She had a pale white face

smooth as porcelain.

Her hair was silky

perfect.

Eyes of crystal.

A soft gaze that held

mine in a trance.

Yet

beneath her charged smile

lay emotions bubbling

in tear steeped sorrow.

Sharp

blue and black glass flitted in her soul

chiseling away.

A plague of darkness

circuited just beneath her skin.

And beneath the surface

of her glassy walls,

rain dripped the poetry she hid

from all.

She was a dear friend…

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