She rides in with a heavy head
And a neck so loose from years of hurt
Looming over; pressure building and pushing down.
Constant pushing.
She has eyes way beyond her years.
They hold within them so much more than
What lays in the cracks of the surface.
Her hands are dirt tattered and torn.
Encrusted into them the souvenirs of
Long forgotten memories.
She holds herself on weak feet,
Standing on an enchantress of lies and deceit.
This is a girl who was made strong,
Who can take pain
Who can hold hurt
Who can see no end to her dark and twisting tunnels.
Yet her heart demands she see the world with glamour
And beauty. She opens her heart to vulnerability
And bides her time in the background,
Until one day the dirt settles and she is seen.