Yes, I know I am not beautiful,
at least not as you see me,
but through your eyes and into mine,
I see me as the wet haired girl, eyes dark like water, skin smooth as water,
and I cannot comprehend why being mortal changes this.
You crossed the river, payed your gold coined fair,
skipped across, taunting me with your laugh, your utter ease
and false understanding.
Did you consider what was on the other side?
Prod me, push me, try to hurt me,
use your words as a weapon, but my body's already destroyed,
and the only thing that is left is a pile of ashes, buried under the ground.
An ashen faced and deathly deadly write. Sounding and resounding. Really strong, and heartfelt. xxxxxx