Lost

Malevolence in a soul,
Damage tore chiasmic hole
You might’ve heard about a past,
Scoff self-proclaimed outcast.

 Black make-up, stringy hair,
Almost certain one doesn't care.
Eyes vague quicksilver glass,
Even assuming has no class.

Someone stole reason to care,
Fragile innocence lost somewhere.
You can look with distain,
Belief still holds she’s to blame.

To comment just wouldn't do,
It implies awareness what one went through.
So politely turn away,
It's so much easier that way.

She carries this gaudy broach,
Garish tattooed at approach.
To be kind, shy away,
Not quite sure what to say.
.
One squirms like bait on hook,
You read so much in empty look
Don't gaze too deeply in her eyes,
It’s only an abysmal guise.