She rubs tears from her eyes:
They sparkle like fairie dust
Bruising hands with make-up
As if reality has struck her-
She feels as if it's harsh hand has.
She hugs a book instead of flesh
And finds solace in the way the world should be,
Though she shakes and shivers against reality
As if it seeks to smother her.
In her niche of ethereal lights
And candle-glow she looks like one of the dreams
That haunt her nights and rend her sleepless.
She starves for the beauty of her thoughts
And wastes away her humanity
In the hope that heaven looks like
The pictures in her head.