The unseen beauty about us are the scars. The unheard beauty of us are whispers to the moon.
The giggles in the deep,
blue, dark, grey night, as tears flow from our
glass eyes unto our paper-like skin, which burns in our different fires to form night itself.
The incapability of our minds lay in our minds itself, dancing to the loud bangs of our mistakes,
that are inherited from our past and present, and in this unheard beauty resided the indecipherability of our thoughts, emotions,
actions that come to us as a normality.
Invariably, the earth is unable to explain us – the outliers in the deep, blue, dark, grey night because
we are invisible.