To no delays…the other side has finally opened up…Let’s step out of this purgatory and right on into the storyline on the other side of this painting’s lines.
“So what’s your story?” He asked her. He stared at her eyes, hoping she would return the stare.
She smiled and directed her eyes away as she drifted into quick thoughts ‘oh would he really want to know? Is he just going to use it against her?’
“Pardon me…” she mumbled softly as she spun away in her little polka-dot dress and strutted away to the lady’s room. This is where she stumbles off in a silent frantic and lands her weight into her hands on the sink and locks eyes with herself in the mirror.
In this reflection, we dive into a deeper complexion of her personal self conversations.
She hasn’t the trust to elaborate on herself or her stories
All it is for her is an over-glorified sidestep from the obituaries
Everyone always looks at her pretty smile and assumes it’s been all sunshine and roses.
If they knew the trenches of her enemies she’s had to trudge
Let me step back, let her defense down so you can attack.
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