She is a lone city with no gates or highways,
no lights or shadows.
Walls of thick ice makes her fort,
strong and sturdy,
but also trapping her in.
Then the lights came.
Her fort sparkles in the light that was not meant for her,
and she tries to hide from the blinding rays,
fearing the light will reveal the hidden spikes
and cannons and guns that make up her fort,
her shelter.
Regardless, the walls glisten like diamonds,
and they stare in awe.
They only touch the surface
of truths untold,
stories eager to unfold.
Every morning,
she puts on the mask preserved in a jar
on her bedside table.
A smile carved into the wood,
Words printed on the tongue.
Her label is written on her forehead
by a foreign hand of oblivion.
But she is also human, surprisingly,
and when she gets tired,
the mask crumbles to the ground like dried, cracked earth.
Eventually, the warmth of the light surrounding her
will melt away her icy walls.
And you’ll see each imperfection of the interior,
the fort with spikes inside,
and the cannons and guns meant to destroy intruders,
and her eyes…
Oh her eyes!
In the glassy reflections of her midnight orbs,
you will see are her deepest fear,
staring back at you.
And you wonder,
what is she afraid of?