She Lives The Poetry She Cannot Write

In the hot, terrific, scorching days,
I see you there, sitting, in the middle,
A strange, absurd, outta-bag expression,
Remains the geo of your face,
You are always smiling,
But deep inside your eyes,
I can see you sad, even when you smile,
This mean and cruel world had been hard on you,
You always look back deep in your past,
Which takes away your glow,
A thick fluid like flowing through your heart,
Your lips trying hard to open,
Like they want to just shout out loud,
Eyes filled with the saline water,
Deep inside like you just wanna cry, out aloud,
Your forehead shrank,
Things never went your way,
You always try living the life that your past could never had,
You are always scared,
Like a nightmare, you just woke up from,
You paint your nails black,
Your house black, and even your ball dress black,
Your smile black, with your lips red,
I tried to think, but can't get, why. Blood?
I have seen your like a thousand shades,
When you lie flat on the beach sand,
Over the hound island,
When you swim across pain,
When you crosses the emotion's lane,
When you sit silently in the park,
When you have that sweet lark,
When you walk dipped in thoughts,
When this world, really, no aught,
When you turn and smile,
Can't forget that pretty while,
No matter what's the situation,
You always ensure if I am alright,
At times, I have seen you crying hard,
Some of the blues playing in the back,
A little of the red wine spilled over,
Various of the antique jars broken,
With the broken glass having reflection of injustice,
The walls scratched with stories,
The snaps muffled with worries,
Everytime I close my eyes,
I see you there,
Crumbled, silent, in the dark paradise,
Couched on the other side,
I've seen your heart beats on your hands,
When you have a blind vigilance,
'what are you worried for,
You got me,
I am here, 'll be there,
Wherever you want me to be,
You just have to sail along,
I promise to resolve your life'.
Your life is still a 'x' for me.