So pretty

She is golden in your eyes,

Bronzed skin, curved and crafted like the works of the ancients you read about in book,

Eyes a brilliant Amber

like the whiskey you snuck from the liquor cabinet 

(you loved the burn)

Her hair twists, curls, and coils

Raising towards the heavens in defiance

You believed that she lived to touch the gods.

She looks like every aesthetic post you saw online and craved to be

A visionary concept to be devoured against citrus palettes and whimsical flowers

She is what you imagined when you first heard “Black Girl Magic”

So smart

She responses to every attempt to belittle her with an effortless ease.

“There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

(Jane Austen probably dreamt of her

Elizabeth Bennet was a poor imitation)

Her words smooth like silk

The poor victim never notices the bite till much later

She isn't one to suffer fools

Yet she entertains your curiosity

You spend hours searching for the questions she can't answer.

Hoping that once she’ll stumble,

Tongue tied and lost

She will no longer be ethereal in your eyes

A faulty human just like you.

(you fail)

You never notice that her answers were never really answers at all.

It's alarming honestly, how charming she can be

You curse yourself at night

You believe it's foolish to worship another being.

You take no stalk in god.

But something about her sings divinity.

You watch as she enchants every soul that crosses her way.

So thankful to not be alone in your ridiculous idolization.

Even the bitter and the mean look her way.

She is truly a sight to behold.

You continue to curse yourself at night

Fooling everyone, telling them she’s having fun

It's late and she is holding court

You always did enjoy a good party 

And the summer never failed to deliver

The place is crowded but she’s never content to stay in one place.

So she roams

You watch as she greets everyone 

a smile, a hug, a kiss

She holds small conversations but continues to move.

When you meet back up, you’re at that sweet spot where everything makes you giggle

She smiles indulgently and cracks terrible jokes.

In a fit, you bend over hysterical

Tears in your eyes

Your stomach cramps in laughter

You miss the way her visage changes solemnly

You have never been happier

Live fast

You discover her reckless streak one fall night.

You enjoy the comfort of autumn

How the vivaciousness of summer yellows and pinks calm to orange and brown. 

The sweet middle in between the sweltering heat of summer and the deep freeze of winter

That night was freezing

you’ve never been a big fan of the cold.

Your blood pumps in your veins

your lungs burn, 

You still feel the chill down to your bones

Wasn't adrenaline supposed to deal with this?

So at this point, fuck autumn.

She grins as she breathes heavily 

Delirious in her success

For the first time you consider hitting her.

What happened breaks the careful guidelines you set for yourself

Your paranoia is a learned trait

But a little trouble always brings the best lessons

So why not? 

You laugh as well.

Die young, bad girls do it well

When you get the news you grieve,

denial, 

anger, 

bargaining, 

depression 

acceptance

Somewhat.

You find that it cycles.

Denial,

Anger,

Bargaining

Acceptance

Denial

Bargaining

Anger

depressionacceptancedenialacceptanceangerbargainingdepressionacceptanceangeracceptance

The idea of anything being linear is bullshit.

Especially pertaining to human emotion

But the acceptance is always there.

Was always there

So pretty, so smart

“The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!”

You read Wuthering Heights out of pretentiousness

Anyone of high intellect knew the classics 

You hated it.

(It's doesn't stop you from finding honesty in Heathcliff mournful proclamation)

Such a waste...

You have a toxic love for nostalgia

The way it bubbles in you chest and blankets heavily on your mind.

You wonder if that's what sparked your love for her.

The idea that she will one day be a bittersweet memory

You knew deep in your sinews that a happy ending was never in hers.

You sit at her funeral as this thought settles over your heart

Her loved ones wail and shake their heads

They have yet to make sense of it.

Her father shakes.

You wonder if it's the sorrow or the anger.

But it's her mother that holds your attention.

She is her daughter’s spitting image.

Age has taken her recklessness

Its left the beauty.

Her posture is perfect as she clutches the hand of her husband 

Her face is devoid of any emotion

Her eyes seem hollow

The other attendees will forever murmur about her strength in the face this nightmare.

You wonder if she always knew the truth you are now discovering.

Saw the end at the beginning

If the acceptance feels more familiar than the melancholy as well

For once you keep you questions to yourself

You say your goodbyes.

...of a young heart.