Skincare for Black Skin

I met her when I was sixteen, and she was a breath of fresh air. Swooping in, she made me smile. But then, she left, taking my next breath with her. Her smile could light up a room, making my black heart pitter patter.

I am loyal, but I will betray you. I am strong, but I have scars. I am an angel, but the devil. I found her again ten years later, with a syringe in her arm, blood coming from between her legs. She was broken, and I was glad she was broken. She wouldn't think less of me and my damaged ways.

I am loyal, yet I will betray you. Though I am strong, I bear scars. An angel I may be, but the devil resides within me. When I was sixteen, I met her, and she was a breath of fresh air. She swooped in, bringing a smile to my face. But her departure left me bereft, as she took my next breath with her. Her smile had the power to illuminate a room, causing my black heart to flutter.

Ten years later, I found her again, a syringe in her arm and blood trickling from between her legs. She was broken, and I was glad of it. Her brokenness meant she would not judge my own damaged ways.

I am loyal, yet I will betray you. Strong I may be, but I bear the scars of my past. An angel, yet the devil lurks within me. At sixteen, I encountered her, a breath of fresh air. She swooped in, brightening my world with her smile. But she left, taking a part of me with her. That smile of hers could light up a room, stirring my black heart.

Years passed, and I found her once more, a syringe in her arm, blood seeping from her body. Broken, she was, and I was glad of it. Her brokenness meant she would not judge the damage that had been done to me.

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