It crawls along her skin as it breaks within.
Her mind troubled, her soul broken & her heart dead. She lifts her empty
eyes to window before her fragile frame, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
She whispers, gently, scared she’ll break if she stands her ground. Her body
weakens as the seconds pass; the obsession to be perfect tearing her to pieces.
She falls, she cries, this lonely lost soul trapped inside a painting of others
ideas. She no longer knows who she is expect that she is now only an image the
world prefers to see.