Her face white and pale.
She has the eyes of a roaring sea.
When she’s upset the sea comes to focus and sails.
But there is the first layer of crystalline blue that you may only see.

Her hair grows and grows as it falls behind her ears and glides against the side of her face.
The beauty marks and scars define who she is.
The beauty marks and scars tell her endless stories like space.

On my sad and worst days,
her smile makes me happy and dries the tears as they fall down my lushes cheeks.
There is no judgement, there is no criticism, and there is no blaze.

Because her face is the face I trust.
She is someone I can talk to with all the words I have to say.
Her advice sticks in my head like a thick pizza crust.
Because her face is the face I trust.

{This poem is about a description of the person I trust. She is someone that I can always go to in need of something or even just someone to talk to for no reason. But everyone should at least have ONE person that they can trust. And this is my person.}

Published By: Ariana N.B.