I’ve seen her so many times before.

I’ve memorized every detail about her.

Her dull brown hair that’s parted just slightly to the left,

Her skin that rarely saw the light of day,

Gentle lips that rarely smiled and were rarely touched.

Yet she had eyes that pierced in to the stone hearts of men.

She was beautiful, yet she never saw it.

 

She had talent like no other.

She had hands that brought any creation of hers to life,

A voice that hushed crying children,

And a world of her own

That would make Alice’s Wonderland look petty and small.

She had all of this a more!

She was beautiful, yet she never saw it.

 

I wondered what doubt could float through her mind.

What demon could be plaguing her?

What beast would be so cruel to mangle the heart of a maiden?

Why was she beautiful, yet she could never see it?

 

It was then I heard it.

I heard it all.

“In this world, no one cares about little old you.”

“What’s so difficult about it?! This is easy!”

“You just need to grow some tougher skin!”

“You have it easy compared to them!”

It was then I knew why she doubted her beauty and why she could never see it.

 

She doubted everything, questioned everything.

Her voice became silenced and only graced the people when allowed.

Her creations were no longer hers, they were theirs.

The world she created became the darkest side of Hell.

She was becoming one of them and no longer her.

She was ugly and she could see it.

 

We met every day from that point on in the mirror.

Thankfully I was her one true joy,

Her one true friend who understood.

And every day I’d softly whisper to her,

“You’re perfect.

You’re so beautiful and one day you will see it.”

 

It was then she heard me.

She sung to me every day and every night,

She drew pictures for me and I praised every one,

We imitated superheroes and drove the darkness out of her world together,

And it was then that she heard me.

She was beautiful, and now everyone could see it.