He lives on,

but the past no longer exists––

he’s there, but unreachable; he looks at me, then walks away.

The light shimmers down through the clouds and scintillates off the water;

it suddenly erupts like a vile volcano, poison rejected from inside.

Love always hurts, but it can be worth the pain;

it blooms only at night.

Smile artificially, smile genuinely, smile perpetually:

they say practice makes perfect.

I am beautiful because I’m imperfect.