They all said she was beautiful.

Beautiful in that sort of

Unconventional way,

The kind that scorches your heart

—fiercely, passionately—

Leaving scars in its wake,

But wonder in its

a f t e r m a t h

 

When they saw those dark curls

That rivaled Arabian nights,

They thought of mysteries

u n t o l d

 

When they heard her crooked laugh

And saw her fiery eyes,

They thought of hellish brimstone,

w r a t h

 

She was of fierce and burning spirits

Kindled by Wind and

Unvanquished by Water

But she stood

a l o n e

 

And so they threw what they could at her:

Sighs of disillusionments

Scornful looks, sadistic smirks

Sugar-coated compliments

Pockmarked by bitterness

Words that fell forth

Like sharp needles in pelting rain

Telling her she wasn’t good enough,

Pretty enough,

Perfect enough

To even

e x i s t

 

And so she fell.

She fell with soul clasped in one hand

And faith tossed asunder.

Faith hath blazed her to ashes

And words had blackened her heart.

She fell with astonishing fragility

—Brittle bones, paper skin—

Knowing she would never rise again,

Know she could no longer be their

p h o e n i x