They can smell her foolish and twisted mind miles away. It is pugnacious, execrable, and noxious. They watch her every move like a prisoner in her own life. Her face remain stolid as she stall around the place. Her movements were composed and poised like she was trained to act ladylike all the time. Her lips are always in a thin line, it seems like she doesn't know how to smile at all. Her eyes that are full of boredom. Her blueish eyes that can make someone's knees shake. She is the girl who was manipulated by her own parents, like a puppet in a show. She's like a trophy that they just display. That's how people think of her, but not me. I can see her soul. I can feel her sorrow. I can read her eyes like an open book. I can see the barrier she built for her own safety. I can understand her fear of losing her own self. Because I know her all my life. She was so alive. She was bold, fierce, and blithe. Her eyes shine whenever she sees something she adore. Her lips were always in a childlike manner. Her laugh boomed around the place, doesn't care if people are giving her weird look. But she's changed.
© emo_concealed