Sure, there was powder in her nose.
But you don’t know her struggles.

You don’t know about the monsters that come
to her in the day
and in the night
or the ones that live in the knots in her teased hair.

You don’t know about her opinions on
matters you tend to like to discuss
and you also tip toe around the ultimate truth of those
delicious topics,
because you secretly want to say it…
Or want her to say it.

But she has too much on her plate for talking…
She has a little monster inside that she’s got to get rid of.

In her brain,
In her belly,
In her heart,
In her throat…
In her nose,
In her blood.

You should pity her,
but she doesn’t want you to.
She doesn’t want anything from you.
She’ll make some money somehow and at
least get rid of one of the monsters.

There used to be such little stretch in her body and face,
but now, just like in life,
she hasn’t any elasticity.

“This is just a transition.”