CylerJade

I know a girl in purple pants. She doesn't know I watch her so closely. If I could hold her hand I would. When shes in the mirror I see her flaws. I see her hands and skinny fingers, I see her feet. How is it I can see her tears but never her eyes.        She doesn't fair well at funerals of friends and she doesn't know the proper way to grieve. Her mind has depleted into nothingness. The plethora of colors that used to unite her soul and spirit has disappeared .        Caskets pass and she no longer feels her own essence , her heartbeats not in her chest. It lies at her