She smiled constantly
She was strong- she expected herself to be.
Her head held high,
Pride in her steps, she moved with grace.
Inside calloused, lamented and hurt
She bled and cried to sleep.
Her once kept hair now unkept,
Her heart almost as unshaped and broken, colorless like her nails
Bitten, ripped and torn into shards
They lay on the floor,
Waiting to be swept, pieces to be glued back together.
It became hard, harder and then unfathomable
But she was strong.
She was invincible
A masterpiece in making.
Or so she had to portray herself to be.
So she had to make herself believe....