Beautiful Stranger

I see you.

the truth behind
your beautiful brown eyes

the sadness
so carefully crafted
into the lines
of your delicate smile

the scars

hidden deep
inside the shadows
of your perfect skin

you are beautiful.

you spend days
fighting demons
that drink
of your despair
and who dance
with your desires

whose voices
pierce silence

whispering
soft sadness
born of memories
trapped forever
in time eternal.

yet still
you fight.

in caring deeds
and kind compassions

you are selfless

dark wanderer

you hold hands
with strangers
and guide souls
through the shadows
of their endless nights

yet at the edge
of their own
forests of doom

you cannot cross
into the light

your guardian spirit

radiant

but somehow

tarnished
by the fact
that nothing
is quite enough

to save you
from the echoes
in your mind

and so instead

you spin the silks
of your soul
slowly
into sentences

to find
the perfect
words

to paint
the perfect
pictures

to put makeup
on the monsters
of your madness

so that strangers
might take selfies
with your sadness.

beautiful stranger

you wander
wounded worlds
filled
with damaged dreams
and misplaced memories

desperately searching

for the light
lost
so many years ago

hoping
with all your heart

with all that you have left

that with its glow
you might
be seen
more clearly.

more clearly
than your
clockwork confidence

more clearly
than the trophies
of your sad success

more clearly
than your
injured love

that you
so selflessly
share
with strangers

you still fight

refuse to die

because
you
are the protagonist
of this story

and your chapters
are yet complete.

but you fear

yes

you are so afraid

that when
the shadows
abandon
your company

and your pen
runs dry
of the blood
that gave you purpose

you might not
recognize
the menagerie
in the mirror.

beautiful stranger

I’ve not much
to offer you

beyond the truth
of my own injured love

but if my affections
should forever fall
into a moment forgotten

then know this

before I go

you’re not meant
to be fixed

you’re not meant
to forget

you’re not meant
to let go

of the darkness
in your heart.

your scars

are beautiful

to those
who would
see you
clearly

and the chaos
in your ink
cannot
forsake you

if you
do not
forsake
it.

beautiful stranger.

I see you.

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