A Painting

A tall and lanky woman appears with crimson eyes she seems to be absent but I see through her disguise she's beautiful and cunning, with a morbid look and dazed control her beauty is hidden in her sense, her calmness, and her pull her pulling is her undesirable look which seems to make me anxious I feel as if only she and I can understand that she makes sense she stares at me from her corner space with eyes mysteriously doubled I realize her thoughts, that modern teenagers leave her troubled the emptiness in her eyes helps me believe her empty heart to not believe how lucky we are is tearing her apart she stands there in silence, holding hands with herself accepting she's alone, only her and no one else how long has she been standing there ? with her hands cupped and her pulled back hair she stands perfectly just staring out into our world as if she's been there her entire life, waiting since she was a girl her hair is pulled back, with wavy locks down by the sides of her head her hair is back to show acceptance to the wavy locks- indicating her struggle to be fed her elongated body and slim shoulders make her appear sick however, the sickness that you see in her is building rumors that are to thick though the thoughts in you minds and the fear in your hearts is a disgusting overrating she is not vile nor demented, to you, she's simply intimidating her skin is almost glowing with her desire to set you strait she will not be judged she will not be scorned, yet you insist on hate her sentimental face is distorted but embracing her leaning neck is her reaction to the crooked world that she is facing still she manages her pain, she releases it by being lost in her mind the same thought lingers in her mind, that everything changes over time.