Fragility

in conversation with someone comfortable, she is able to show her true colors, still each eye bears an iris full of years of torment & the therapy that followed--- these very same eyes like little cameras buried in her young innocent face, which had been pushed to the wall as a little girl & forced to do things that she blocked out then but which soon grew so loud they screamed inside her head enough to blow her eardrums out from within, recording hundreds, thousands of execrable images that flooded the levees & bore terrors down upon her very heart that tried to survive amidst the self-hatred that resulted, pulling with it an undeserved feeling that she would never be clean again, that no one would ever love her. struggling with “trust” is an understatement, for what’s been done has been done & even though people insist that she’s attractive, she has fought the urge to make herself throw up, fought the urge to binge, fought the urge to slice at herself---all attempts to quench the destructive impulse that no one else can understand, pulsating inside & every day her strength increases is every day she wins the fight against herself, in complete paradox.