Broken Souls

Whenever there is darkness 
There sometimes is an infinite amount of beauty
This beauty is of the toxic kind

It fucks with your mind. 

It’s the kind that others can see,

But you can’t see

Why is it so hard to see? 

It feels as if the mirror and my eyes disagree, 

This beauty that creates uncertainty and leaves a trail of broken souls. 

This beauty you think is a flower is unfruitful soil

This beauty I speak of is beauty with thorns, 

It needs to be held with gloves 

It requires infinite amounts of love. 

But love it shuns 

Love it has and it, it shuns. 

It shuns it all. 

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