Kohl and Mascara
it was a night,
a mediocre one.
where i felt like nobody.
i just felt like a swinging shadow,
flying and fluttering in the air.
it was a night,
a mediocre one.
where i felt low and shallow.
where i needed to solidify my existence.
i needed to deck myself up.
it was a night,
a mediocre one.
where i remembered, how he praised my eyes.
he said they were mystic,
they were magical.
it was a night,
a mediocre one.
when i thought to lace my eyes,
with some dark kohl
and a mascara.
it was a night,
a mediocre one.
when i painted and brushed my eyes,
just like a passionate painter,
paints out his heart and soul.
it was a night,
a mediocre one.
when i stood in front of the mirror.
when my alter go strutted
as she knew, she looked beautiful, she knew, he loved her with her vibrant eyes.
it was a night,
a mediocre one,
when i felt like a douche bag,
as he kept on punching,
till i wept.
it was a night,
a mediocre one,
when all my kohl, when my mascara was washed away,
with the tears
that you decked on me.
it was a night,
a mediocre one,
when i realised the mediocrity of my existence,
and i tampered the smudged kohl and mascara
with a sharp knife.
it was a night,
just a night,
but a mediocre one.
