She sits at her vanity
Peering at her reflection…
Deep lines plague her forehead,
Her pale skin, matte,
The downturned scowl denies
Any beauty to radiate
From her visage–
He had made her ugly.
He’d poisoned the well
From which her quill drank
Until all she could express
Was vile anger and repugnance;
It stole the sun from her days
And the comfort from her pillows
At night.
He’d sent letters of splendor
Exquisite outpourings of adoration
And striking gardens of golden sunsets,
Such awe-inspiring images of devotion
And eternal love–
They were never addressed to her.
Still
She kept them tucked in her heart,
Decay rooted into infection
And disease surged outward
With each silent beat.
She sits at her vanity
Peering into her reflection
Reminiscing moments
Of days
When the warmth of the sun caressed her cheek
And flowers perished fragrant
For her mere attention…
She had been beautiful then.
©Jen2010 2–8
Tags: beauty, Dark Poetry, devotion, man and woman, relationships









Not sure what honorifics one would say. I guess just a write that leaves its mark in the sky, the tail of a comet, a flash of lightning, a segment of song that will not leave memory. Very cool write Para.
Hey, you are still beautiful. of course not as beautiful as moi, but being my page I can say that shit. I’m curious, can I get a pic from ya where, how can i say this… hmmm that contains…Aur…ehh…aure…
I shudder at your use of power tools. 
Shit, using a screwdriver, I’m just curious how good you are with hand tools.
Gee, why do i get the feeling there is not much you think is true. Gotta be a bitch, going thru life knowing I fucked your wife and she still sucks tendrils of my wad between her teeth. Fear not anile one, I’ll shoot another load in her mouth. I’ll even let you watch.
errr.. I know you aren’t talking to me… Who the fuck you talking to Quas? Has the silence finally driven you over the edge?
Hey, don’t put words in my mouth that would mean you are talking to you through me while I’m not talking to you. Or I could put words in your mouth and I will be talking to me through you while I’m not talking to you as you talked to me. K? Can’t get much simpler than that.
By the way I was talking to a spammer whose message was deleted which of course makes me look like a madman, I’m not a madman I tell you I’m just an exceptionally pissed person.
Yea, and as they say, silence is golden, however they go on to say something about the eyes getting ripped out or being blinded by a hot poker. They can be very cruel specially in songs like that. If you really think about it, why did they have to bring the eyes up at all? Couldn’t they leave the eyes out of it? They weren’t bothering anyone. Why not ears or tongues you figure they would be more germane to the subject matter. They always baffled me…
Well, that sure clears it up. What did the spammer say? That the poem wasn’t true?