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.