Bitterness settles in her heart.
There is malevolence lurking beneath the wall that she calls her skin.
You can see the burning hostility in her eyes.
See the black tears that she cries.
She has claws like a tiger that will cut you if you get too close.
Her demonic, yet beautiful face will dare you to come closer.
Her snake-like hair will wrap around you in a crippling embrace.
An aura of darkness surrounds her.
A layer of smoke and ash after a volcano’s eruption.
Her voice cuts like shards of broken glass to match her shattered spirit.
Where she goes, death and destruction follow.
And yet, there is a tiny spark, glimmering like a tiny sliver of hope buried in the dark.
She yearns for a love that will accept her broken form.
One that will sew her skin back together.
So tightly that the seams become imperceptible.
One that would put meaning back into life.
To show her beauty where she could only see repugnantcy.
To chase away the black birds with pure, white doves.
To make her feel whole once more.
Love and not hate.
Heaven and not Hell.
Light and not dark.
Peace and not chaos.
Hope and not despair.