If I had to pinpoint the catalytic event in my personal history that has since shaped me into this wickedly-strong woman

-The one that stands before you on this scorching Sunday in June-

I would tell you with next-to-no emotion how I became this masterpiece of a well-put-together - yet, slightly singed - puzzle

Only after the soul-destroying moment in time

I spent manipulated by a narcissist with blazing-green eyes.


I would confide in you how I became blind to those deceitful eyes

Deaf to the sweet lies that rolled from the twisted tongue that called my name

And shattered by hands that still hold me to blame


I know they crack jokes about a narcissist's misfortune
...