Bad Bitch

Her eyes told the real story, a story that is all too personal but yet not distinctly hers.  Past her beautiful gaze,  all the hair and makeup, past her winning smile and her sunny disposition, past all of those things that she developed as a way of hiding herself from life, there lie the true her.  A little girl damaged by what life had done to her, a child screaming for help, for someone to ease her pain.  Not quite what she seemed to be, not the model-esque figure that would light up a room upon entrance, no that's not her at all.  Beyond the hazel and green lies a little girl that is scared to show you who she really is. Her scars penetrate past what is visible; those injuries cannot be concealed or blended in.  A chameleon of sorts, she morphs and changes to her environment, never giving you the real her, instead only the her she wants you to see.

This game of smoke and mirrors has been going on so long she questions if she knows who the real her is anymore.  When you so frequently make yourself into exactly what someone else needs it's easy for you to get caught up in the act and lose who you really are in the process.  The truth is, she doesn’t feel like the real her would be good enough, who could possibly come to love someone so ordinary and plain.  How could a person with such simple sensibilities survive in such a complicated and flashy world?  A world that values glamour over substance, fame more than work.  For this world what she had become was perfect, the makeup, the heels, the look, all flawless but yet so empty.  

That damaged little girl inside of her no longer screams to come out, her cries have been suppressed by time, by pain, and by a twisted since of identity found in the confines of relationships.  These dealings with the opposite sex have become her safe haven; her identity derives from that of her current partner.  A value not based on worth but cost...  The price these suitors are willing to pay for her company is what buoys her inner sense of self. What she is can only be qualified by what they are willing to do.  So no longer is she dealing with those issues of inadequacy, those feeling have now been validated by a swipe of a credit card or a financed trip, now her worth can be easily calculated and viewed on the receipt.  

The truth is in her eyes and her story is not hers alone.