When her invisible celebrity grows to smoulder – no holds barred

Barbaric, bare-knuckle fight brutalised til all adolescent eyes prosper to open themselves Wider, Wiser than these ten thousand sun-kissed skies.
 
Caught and comfortably cauterised by
The bargaining of the pessimistic light … some might say it softly, gently, oh so very wistfully degrading at being
 
These bothering people with time upon their side
Shy-locked individuals with a stinging failure to peel their blossoming eye-lids as equally Wide, Wise as these reconfigured, shape-shifting, juvenile moons.
 
Agents of mass misunderstanding aside this undeniable heartache, -break it, please …
Into a million lesser knowing pieces of each to their invaluable own.
 
Prone, prone, pretty little pretenders with that superficially visual inability
 To see …
Something
From coated-in-gold nothing.
 
We live in a spatially abrupt subculture now which usurps mere brilliance, leans in and steals its speechless soul midst arguable hindsight improper.
And this Artist sits – unforgivably plagiarised aside posthumously pierced.